Navigator
by HotChilliGriffin
Summary: Jade Holiday. Fullstop.
1. Prologue

Welcome aboard everyone. This is my latest WIP and, with a 7-chapter introduction, it looks like it'll be epic. Includes every character from the first three seasons, including Darryl and Chefo (it's about time they had some love). It's an AR fic, so be flexible in what you're thinking. SomebodysDarkAngel is my NaviBeta, but any mistakes are mine. All feedback/reviews/flames appreciated, but I'm not here to hear (yet again) how much you all love Jade.

* * *

**Navigator – Prologue**

**Friday, January 12, 2001**

"Smart."

"Obviously."

"Intuitive."

"Probably."

"Fast learner."

"Get to the point."

"Aw, Kate!" Mike Flynn's pouting blue eyes gazed into her green ones, and eventually Kate sighed in defeat.

"You think we should hire her," she stated flatly.

"I do."

Kate flicked calmly through the young woman's file. "Marshall agreed?"

"He did. Now I've just got to get the idea past you."

Grimacing, she handed the file back. "Fine. Offer her the job. Lord knows, we need some fresh blood."

Mike winced. "Bad word choice," he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes. Before she could compose a witty comeback, however, there was a knock on the door, and Robert Dixon poked his head in.

"Agent Flynn? They've got news on Richard."

Kate looked up. "I'll be right there." She turned back to Mike. "We'll continue this discussion later."

Watching his wife of three years walk away, Mike smiled to himself. One down.

***

**Monday, January 15, 2001**

As she walked down the main street, the young woman was unable to prevent a wide grin from crossing her face. Lately, even the simplest of tasks filled her with a sense of fulfilment; even the most boring of lessons made her feel alive. It was him, she knew it was. Being with him was like... it was like being in love.

"Excuse me," a voice called, and she spun around. A man was leaning against the front fence of a nearby house, watching her. Cautiously, she stepped closer.

"Do I know you?"

He smirked. "No. Not yet, at least. My name's Mike Flynn. I'm here to offer you a job."

She studied him carefully. There was something supremely arrogant about him, but he didn't look seedy or particularly dangerous.

"I have a job."

"I'm offering you a better one."

Had he approached her and said, "Work for me", it would have been an entirely different situation. She would have knocked him one and called the cops. As it was, she wasn't going to follow him anywhere or sign anything – but the conversation was amusing, at the very least.

"You don't know anything about my current one."

"You're in your second year at ADFA. Still deciding on a major. Training to become a Naval officer. Distinction average. Youngest of five children."

"Stop," she commanded shakily, and the smirk returned to his face. She wasn't running, which was a good sign; but nor was she losing the objective cautiousness. Curious but careful. A good combination. It could be a great one.

"I know your father."

Her eyes narrowed. "Really? Well, that line may work on orphan boys in movies..."

"I used to work with your father."

"My father was in the Navy."

Mike shrugged. "Call him sometime. Ask him how he is. Ask him if he remembers Mike Flynn."

She nodded slowly. "Alright, I will." There was a moment of silence. "You going to tell me about this job?"

"I run a high-security operation, funded by the Australian government. It's called Hammersley. We work to stop national security threats from becoming reality. Working with many different people, different places, using different skills..."

She bit her lip. From what he'd read in her file, the idea would be more than tempting; it would be ideal.

"Dangerous?"

"Less so than what you'd face in the Navy. But yes, there are risks. Pays better, though." He glanced up the street. "I don't think here is the place to talk about it."

He fished what looked like a blank business card and a pen from a back pocket, and scribbled a number down. "Call your father. Then call me."

"I'll think about it," she replied coolly, taking the card.

_Plays her cards close to her chest_, he noted. _Perfect._

"It's not a request," he added softly. "It's an offer."

While puzzling over the hidden meaning to those words, Nikki's gaze was caught by a car speeding along the road behind her. When she turned back to the fence, the man, Mike, was gone.


	2. Navigator: 1

**Navigator – 1**

**Saturday, January 17, 2009**

"Report on Josef Collin's gang," she announced, tossing a thick file onto Kate's desk. "Adelaide finally gave me her findings."

"Thanks, Nik. You should get home."

Nikki hesitated. "I wanted to ask you something, first." Kate frowned, and she pushed on quickly. "I want to get back into field work."

"You sure you're ready for that?" Kate asked, worry evident. "Your injuries..."

"Have been fully healed for months."

There was a pause, in which Kate looked like she wanted to say something else, but couldn't quite find the words.

Nikki sighed. "Give me a little credit. This isn't about my injuries."

"How long has it been?" Kate asked, studying the younger woman carefully.

"One year, nine days." Nikki smiled sadly. "And I promise I'll stop counting soon."

"You should talk to Josh before going back into the field," Kate said slowly, moving back to the problem at hand. "You can't keep lying to him."

Nikki's jaw tightened. "I'm not lying to him," she protested. "He knows what I do."

"He thinks you work for a large-scope security firm."

"I do."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Hammersley is a hell of a lot more than that."

"He knows exactly what that report was about. Every detail." Nikki pointed at the folder she had just delivered. Kate raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. "If one of his mates ever asks what I do, he tells them 'some government job'. He doesn't care. So long as we're together and able to pay the bills..."

She suddenly pulled a chair out from underneath the desk, and collapsed into it, running her hands over her face.

"It's late," Kate said sympathetically. Nikki just nodded, and Kate grimaced. "Is everything okay with Josh?"

"Yeah. It's fine."

"Then go home. Be with your family. I'll talk to Mike about field work."

Nikki sent her a grateful smile. Despite the many differences in their personal backgrounds, they had become firm friends in the time Nikki had worked for Hammersley. Pushing herself up, Nikki made for the door, only to pause just before leaving.

"Do you ever think it's ironic that the only time I've been shot... I wasn't working?"

"A bit ironic," Kate replied, shrugging.

Nodding sadly to herself, Nikki finally left the office.

***

She opened the front door and entered her house with near super-human silence. It wasn't until she was at the other end of the hall that she made the first noise, dropping her keys onto the table and collapsing onto the lounge with a loud sigh.

The man already sitting there wrapped his arms around her. "Long day?"

"Yeah. I hate working Saturdays." She yawned, then kissed him softly. "And you?"

"She was good. I think she wants her mum, though."

Nikki glanced up the hall. "What time did she go to bed?" she asked, a hint of sharpness in her tone.

"Eight." She raised an eyebrow. "Uh, about nine," he corrected, risking a glance at the clock. "Or just after. Like, quarter past. Before half past. Probably." Sighing again, she let her head fall back against the soft cover of the lounge. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"I tell you she went to bed late and you just sigh..."

Cracking one eye open, she gave a very weak glare. "You want me to be mad? I'm too tired, Josh."

"Not just tonight. You're always tired... working late... it's not good for you."

She didn't say anything, and he carefully cupped her chin, bringing her eyes towards him. His gaze promised safety and security, and Nikki eventually found the words to describe what hurting.

"She blames me," she whispered.

He suddenly kissed her, his lips trying to convey the reassurance he wasn't sure he could put into words. As he pulled back she smiled weakly, the dull gleam of guilt still in her eyes. He took a deep breath.

"Listen to me. It was not your fault. It was a horrible... accident..." She didn't protest at his wording, but they both knew that murder was never an accident. "You came so close to dying, I... I couldn't do this without you." There was a flash of real fear in his eyes, and he didn't even try to hide it.

"I know," she relented. "But that doesn't change what Jade thinks."

"She's a seven year old girl. All she remembers of... what happened last year is... the shots, the blood, the hospital, the fear." He swallowed. "All the things I remember. Being alone. She knows what happened, but doesn't understand why; and instead of talking to her, you shut yourself up at work..."

"I don't know what to say to her," Nikki admitted.

"Don't try and explain. She's too young to understand. Just spend more time with her, let her know that mummy's still here."

Nikki nodded. "Yeah. You're right. And, I spoke to Kate about changing divisions today. Insurance scams and stuff, rather than gang wars. Should let me have a bit more time at home."

The excited grin Josh gave her made the lie seem worthwhile. The truth would only worry him.

***

Mike had been distracted all evening, but Kate didn't press. They'd been married for eleven years, and she knew how his mind worked. Their partnership was instinctive, and they had learned to not let work-related disputes enter their private life – and there certainly were a few of those. Usually when something was eating at him, they would discuss it at dinner; but tonight he seemed intent on mulling over his thoughts privately.

It wasn't until they were in bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep, that he finally broke the silence.

"I had a call today," he said suddenly, sitting up. Kate, who had been close to sleep, repressed the urge to groan about his timing.

"From who?" she asked, rolling over so that she could look at his outline in the darkness.

"Darryl Smith."

That certainly woke her up. Darryl did not speak to Mike unless absolutely necessary. "What did he want?"

"Apparently Kingston have something we don't... and he wanted to let me know."

"They've always got something we don't. That's how it works. Hopefully, we've got something they don't."

"Apparently, this is big. _Really_ big."

Kate blinked. "That big?"

He grimaced. "Yep."

"So... can we do anything? Or was he just rubbing it in our faces?"

"He gave me some details. He got them from the CIA."

"The... the CIA? As in the United States –"

"Yes, that CIA," he cut in. "And I've been looking over them. Kingston have a head start, so I want to get an agent in as soon as possible."

"Any thoughts?" Kate asked, wondering if this would be a good time to bring up Nikki's desire to return to field work.

"I was actually wondering... do you think Nikki is ready for an assignment?"

A number of seconds passed in total silence. Kate struggled to keep a straight face, and failed. Perplexed by her amusement, Mike eventually said, "Either tell me what's so funny, or answer the question."

She smirked, and opted for the latter. "I think she is. Why do you ask?"

"It would suit her. More importantly, she would suit it."

"Going to tell me what it is?"

He lay back down and wrapped his arms around her. "In the morning."

Though her curiosity was most certainly peaked, she was too tired to argue and, resting her head against his chest, slipped easily into sleep.


	3. Navigator: 2

**Navigator – 2**

**Monday, January 19, 2009**

"Defence force files? Don't ask for anything difficult, Mike."

"No, Sir. Wouldn't dream of it."

Marshall chuckled. "Alright, I'll have Darryl get back to you. Where are you at?"

"Phase one. Logistics." Even over the phone, Marshall could detect Mike's dislike of the last word.

"Any DF division in particular?"

"Navy," Mike said stiffly. There was a moment of silence, then a sound came over the line that was somewhere between a sigh and a snort.

"Don't try to catch-up, Mike, Kingston's got too big a head start. Find your own conspiracy; shouldn't take you long." Marshall snickered at his own joke, but Mike completely ignored the reference to previous missions.

"You doubt my resourcefulness," Mike said, smirking. "I can get an agent in."

"It's the Navy, Mike. Richard's been working on this for a while, he's already got an agent in there, who would outrank anyone you could send in and thus... you wouldn't get far."

There was a moment of silence before Mike spoke again. "Let me try."

"You're wasting your time. _And_ mine."

"I'm better than that."

Marshall considered. Yes, Mike _was_ better than that. That was why he had been chosen to run Operation Hammersley.

"Fine. But keep it under control, Mike."

"Will do, Sir. Thankyou."

Dropping the phone, Marshall poked his head out of his office door. "Darryl? Need Navy files for Mike."

"Yes, sir."

"And get that smirk off your face. I don't need you playing Hammersley and Kingston against each other. It could turn nasty... nastier."

Darryl quickly rearranged his expression. As soon as Marshall had closed the door, the smug look reappeared.

***

**Tuesday, January 20, 2009**

A scream ripped the night air, and before she was even awake Nikki was out of bed and halfway to the door. There was an instinct that ran deeper than any training either ADFA or Hammersley could have given her and, despite the darkness of the house at 4am, it guided her straight to her daughter's room.

Josh was right behind her, and he flicked on Jade's bedroom light. Their daughter's over-wide eyes stared back at them, startled by the echoes of her own scream.

"Jade, honey, it's all right, you're safe," Nikki murmured, approaching the bed with arms outstretched.

Jade pushed away the single sheet and leaped forwards, wrapping her small arms around Josh's waist. "Daddy," she whimpered. "So much red."

Casting a concerned glance at his wife, Josh hugged his daughter tightly, one hand stroking her soft brown hair. "It's all right, baby," he said softly. "I've got you... you're safe..."

Swallowing, Nikki forced back tears and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It was just a dream," Josh continued. Looking up, he saw Nikki's expression, and felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. If only it had been just a dream.

At his words, Jade looked up, fear replaced by a desperate hopefulness. "Where's Conner?"

Nikki didn't hear Josh's reply. She was already upright, out the door, heading back to her own bed. He didn't immediately follow, but she hadn't expected him to. She wouldn't have wanted him to. His priority was Jade, as it should be. As hers should be.

***

"Now, get some sleep. In the morning, it'll be all better," Josh whispered, placing a soft kiss on Jade's forehead. She nodded sombrely, and slowly released her hold on his waist. "Do you want me to leave the light on?"

She shook her head. "I'm not afraid of the dark."

He smiled, flicked the switch, and slowly backed out of the room. A book on child-raising had taught him that: don't turn your back on them as you leave, it can lead to feelings of abandonment. And Jade already had enough problems with that.

Re-entering his own bedroom, Josh's eyes fell on Nikki's tightly curled figure. She didn't move, or make any sign that she had heard his entrance, but he knew she wasn't asleep. He lay down behind her silently, and put an arm around her waist, tugging gently to encourage her to roll over and face him.

"Nikki," he whispered, one hand rising to brush loose strands of hair away from her face. Her eyes were wide open, and she blinked as his hand came past again.

"She hates me."

"No, she doesn't. She had a nightmare."

"It wasn't just a dream. She remembers."

He sighed. "She remembers her mother, bleeding, unable to move. Then she wakes up and you're standing there, it's natural that she –"

"Wouldn't want to be anywhere near me?"

"That's not true," he chided. "She was barely awake. Scared. She probably looked at you and could still see the blood..."

"Oh God," Nikki whispered, and then she broke down. "I am the world's worst mother. I wasn't there for her when she needed me, I'm still not..." Whatever she said after that was muffled, both by her own sobs and the warmth of Josh's chest, as he pulled her closer.

"This is _not_ your fault," he replied fiercely, the volume of his voice still low. "Jade loves you. But she's only seven. She's still coming to terms with it."

She sucked in a deep, rattling breath, but still didn't seem entirely convinced. He took hold of her tear-stained cheeks and kissed her, trying to impart by mouth the reassurances he couldn't speak. Her response was instantaneous, and what Josh had intended as a comforting kiss quickly turned into something a whole lot more. Nikki quickly rid them both of their shirts, clutching desperately at his shoulders and pulling him closer as soon as the fabric cleared his head. Threading his fingers through her hair, he rolled them over, and she sighed happily as his familiar weight settled onto her.

***

As dawn rose over Cairns, two men were meeting in the Ocean View cafe. Not that it was a meeting, of course.

"Leading Agent Curry. What a surprise seeing you here."

"Agent Smith."

"Do you frequent here?"

Curry shrugged. "Just after some breakfast."

"As am I," Darryl agreed, with an expression of forced surprise. "Try the French Toast."

"I might do that. Say... you wouldn't happen to know if Leading Agent Flynn likes it here?"

"I'm fairly sure he's never even heard of the Ocean View cafe. Even if he had, he wouldn't be coming here."

"Good..."


	4. Navigator: 3

**Navigator – 3**

**Tuesday, January 20, 2009**

ACPB 97, HMAS Picton, was moored in Cairns' harbour, her decks deserted apart from one well-built sailor busy stocktaking the supplies in each of the RHIBs. Buffer was not, however, concentrating on work – his girlfriend was leaning against one railing, her short red-brown hair loose around her shoulders and a red motorbike helmet gripped under one arm.

"Did you hear about the tongue lashing Spider got yesterday?" There was usually a mocking pleasure in Rebecca's voice when she described Billy 'Spider' Webb's misfortunes. Today, however, there was only bitterness.

Buffer, aka LF Agent Pete Tomaszewski, didn't seem particularly surprised or interested. "I get my news from you. How would I have heard?"

She sneered at the sarcastic tone. "Curry gave it to him. Everyone heard."

"Including you."

"Of course I heard. Anything that goes on in that building – I know about it."

"And?"

"Gave him this whole speech about what qualities a field agent needs. Including, 'cool under pressure', 'rational thinking', 'initiative', 'good instincts' –"

"Bec?" Her tirade paused, mid-breath, and he rolled his eyes. "Stop whining."

"All the qualities I have. Deny that."

"Maybe they're waiting to see if you can last an entire day without complaining."

"No, they're waiting for Smith to agree. And he's not going to."

"Maybe I like having you here."

That, it seemed, was enough to make her pause. She tilted her head to one side, a smile playing on her lips. "Why?"

"I don't get on shore too often. If you were off busting the bad guys all the time…"

He could almost see the way her hackles lowered at his words. Unfortunately, he couldn't resist a last, quick jab. "Besides… you're the best _delivery girl_ Kingston has."

A moment later, he was lifting his arms to protect his face as she tried to hit him with her helmet. She suddenly changed tactic, and jabbed him in the gut. By the time he had recovered, she had slung the helmet over an arm, and was tying her hair back as she headed for the motorbike parked on the other side of the road.

"Bec! C'mon, Becca, I'm sorry." Trotting over the gangplank, Buffer followed her across the street.

She sat astride the bike, but looked back at him before pulling the helmet on. "By the way. I was supposed to be _delivering_ a message to you."

He watched her, uncertain. Mad Rebecca he was used to. Right now, she sounded downright angry. A rather sinister smile faced him, and there was no mistaking the modicum of pleasure she was taking from the moment.

"Curry reckons the kid needs a bit of toughening up. From someone with experience." A look of absolute horror descended on his face. "That's you, Pete," she added, purely for her own entertainment. "'Spider' Webb is now in your division."

He groaned. "I'd much rather it were you," he said softly, trying to make up for his earlier comment.

For a moment, she fought the soft, sincere smile, but eventually it broke though. "The delivery girl and the babysitter." As she pulled the helmet over her head, he could have sworn he heard her mutter, "Aint love grand."

There was a roar as the bike started. Rebecca twisted the throttle a few times to warm it up as fast as possible. Then, with a casual wave, took off.

Buffer didn't move. His mind was spinning so fast it felt like it wasn't moving… and it had nothing to do with the news he'd be 'babysitting'.

_Aint _what_ grand?_

***

Either this meeting wasn't about what she was hoping it would be, or her conversation with Kate on Saturday evening hadn't been entirely necessary. Mike couldn't have found her an assignment in just three days. It was possible, of course, that he'd had one ready, and her desire to get back into field work had coincided with his need for a skilled agent. Or he'd already been thinking of her for it.

She was definitely thinking too hard about it. Thoughts and possibilities flew through her mind like suicidal sparrows, and alongside the hopefuls were the negatives; it might not be about an assignment at all. Or, worse yet, he could want to tell her he didn't think she was ready.

Very, very carefully, she wouldn't allow herself to be overly early. That would look too desperate. But she couldn't be _late_ – and that was just a personal opinion. Late was not good. But what if her watch was wrong? She checked it against the wall clock.

"You okay?"

"Have you ever wondered about why we, that is: mankind, find it necessary to structure our lives around an almost completely arbitrary time system that not only doesn't fit with the rest of metric society but that causes inappropriate levels of stress and is impossible to judge accurately?"

A wary Josh came towards the table, and pulled the mug of coffee from her hands. She was sitting bolt upright, wide eyed and grinning, with enough breakfast for all three of them laid out in front of her. One glance at the empty coffee machine in the kitchen, and Josh had his answer. "Okay, Nik... enough coffee. You have a meeting this morning?"

"No meeting. Just a normal day at the office. A few national security threats, and then it's all good, and I'll come home. Because the coffee there is awful."

He looked into the mug, sniffing the dredges in the bottom. "Four cups, double your usual strength, black?"

With an eerily slow calmness, she looked up and smiled. "Five. I was tired, didn't sleep well. And by national security, I mean localised, very safe crime stopping. Well, not exactly crime stopping. It's quite varied. It's – mfph – mm."

Lost for ideas as for how else to stop her rambling, Josh leaned over the corner of the table and kissed her. Mind still on the previous night, his lips gently cut off her train of caffeinated thought. She leaned hungrily into the kiss, but he was soon overwhelmed by the taste of coffee and pulled away.

"Listen, Nikki," he said softly, forcing her to listen. "Last night was... bad..."

"Last night was great," she grinned, tugging gently at his belt.

He took hold of her hands, and inhaled deeply. "Jade, I meant."

The smile fell from her face, and she seemed to instantly regain her composure. "Yeah."

"She had a nightmare. She's had a lot of them, since... But they're less frequent now. We're working through this."

Nikki smiled, the expression much more sincere than her previous hyper grin. "Thanks, Josh. I – morning sweetie."

A yawning Jade had just come through the doorway, wrinkling her nose. "Smells yucky in here," she muttered, and Josh snorted. Jade's eyes suddenly brightened, finding another smell beneath that of coffee and, rubbing her eyes, she looked over the table. "Pancakes?"

"Mum made breakfast," Josh informed her and, with a grin, Jade sat down in front of one of the plates, reaching for the pancake pile.

"Uh-uh," Nikki suddenly cut in, pointing a finger to the cutlery on either side of Jade's plate. "No fingers." Jade pouted, and crossed her arms. Two pairs of blue-green eyes stared across the table.

Josh rolled his eyes. "I'll cut them for you, you use the fork, hey?" he suggested. Jade's expression cleared, and he leaned over.

At the same time, Nikki was rising, glancing nervously at the clock. "I'd better get going."

"It's only seven thirty!" Josh exclaimed, frozen between his wife and daughter.

"I'm going in early."

He frowned. "Something to do with your phone call?" She nodded, but didn't elaborate. Her mobile had rung at about six that morning, though Josh had gone back to sleep after realising it wasn't his phone. Slowly, he smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Promotion?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Why would you..."

"Going in early means some sort of meeting, and you seem really nervous... determined not to fall asleep..."

With an expression that lay between guilty and fond, she shrugged. "Well, I haven't heard anything. All I know is that Mike wants to see me. Could be bad news."

He had the distinct impression she was trying to convince herself. "Okay," he agreed casually. "Call me when you know. And say hi to Mike for me; haven't seen him in ages."

"Will do," she promised. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him again.

He broke away before she could deepen the kiss, shaking his head. "Way too much coffee."

***

"I have an assignment for you. If you –"

"I want it."

A smirk played across Mike's lips. "It's an LF position."

She hesitated for only a moment, before smiling wryly. "I'll take it."

"As you know, it's incredibly useful to have LF agents infiltrate other security organisations. Just in case something comes up."

"Has something come up?"

He grimaced. "Well... that's the problem. We haven't got an agent in place, but Kingston do. And they just got a tip off from the CIA."

"_The_ CIA?"

"Yes."

"Whatever they're looking for, we need to find it first," Nikki gathered. "Thus, we need an agent in there." He nodded, and she watched him steadily for a few moments. Eventually, the smirk came back into play, and she shrugged. "Okay. Why me?"

"You're one of my best agents," he said, giving a half-shrug that didn't fool her in the slightest.

"And you don't put one of your best into an LF position unless absolutely necessary."

"I need to know, _know_, that you're ready for this," he said, changing the subject.

Her eyes narrowed. "I am."

"There will be guns involved."

"There always are. If you're not _sure_ –" She failed to keep her voice flat, a slight growl entering her words. "– then why are you asking me?"

He sighed. "Because you're the only one who can do it." She frowned. As far as she knew, she had no special skills… unless impressive scars were somehow an asset. "We need an operative in the Navy. And fast-tracking one of our agents through the recruitment process won't work, because a seaman wouldn't be able to help us."

Nikki understood immediately. Not just what he wanted, but why it had to be her. "A seaman wouldn't have access to any but the most basic information. And convincing someone who's already in the Navy to help us takes too long. You need an agent working as an officer... and I've already had half the training."

Concealing a slight frown, Mike nodded. After working with her for eight years, he understood her, and how she processed information. The fact that she'd had to speak her conclusion was a sign of uncertainty; and Mike knew he'd almost left it too long to give her a new assignment. She was beginning to lose the skills that had made her one of the best and, more worryingly, her self confidence. In waiting for her to 'be ready' – whatever that meant, he snorted silently – he had been implying she wasn't. It wouldn't be the first time an agent's worst enemy had been a boss who refused to believe in them.

"You're ready for this," he said firmly. She smiled, and her back straightened slightly. Mike quickly glanced at his watch. "When Kate eventually gets here, go talk to her. She's got details and... reading material."

She groaned. "The two years of ADFA I _didn't_ attend?"

Smirking, he said, "Yep." Then his expression grew serious. "Nikki, a position in the Navy would mean a lot of time away from home."

Not a single emotion passed her cool eyes. "I figured."

"You don't have to take it."

There was a pause, and her expression softened. "Thanks boss. But I want it. And Josh will understand."

"I'm not so sure he will," Mike muttered, grimacing.

As if she hadn't heard him, Nikki added, "He said to say hi, by the way."

His smile was almost sad. "And to him. Thanks, Nikki."

She nodded at the dismissal, and turned for the door, her mind spinning.

"Hey Nikki?" She glanced back. There was something rather nostalgic in Mike's expression as he gazed at her. The silence stretched on, but she waited patiently. Eventually, he sighed. "You know it's been fifteen years since we've had an LF agent in the Navy."

She laughed softly. "It'd be about that. And he was there for twenty years..."

Mike nodded. "That's why they call it LF – _long-term _field work."

"You know, his family never knew what he really did."

"Your mother knew, I'm sure. It's about an anchor, Nikki. You need someone who knows who you really are, and which part of you isn't a cover. Otherwise the mother and spouse will eventually be just another story." She bit her lip, and Mike sighed. "It's your choice, though. It's always your choice."

***

Waiting outside the back of the building for the unusually-absent Kate to arrive, Nikki pulled out her mobile and called Josh.

"Hey," he answered, and she heard the screams and shouts of young children at the other end. "How was your meeting?"

"Fantastic," she sighed. There was a pause, both of them wondering about the reason for the phone call.

"Nikki?"

"Oh, sorry... I'm here. Just a bit tired. Meeting was great. But... Josh. We need to talk."


	5. Navigator: 4

**Navigator – 4**

**Tuesday, January 20, 2009**

As Nikki left for work, Jade dropped her fork and grabbed the pancake in her fingers. Josh rolled his eyes but, instead of reprimanding her, abandoned his own cutlery to mimic her.

When she had finished eating, Jade looked up, a rather thoughtful expression on her face. "I think I like crazy mummy."

Josh chuckled, taking the empty plates into the kitchen. "She's not crazy. Just excited about work."

"Why?" Jade picked up her empty juice glass and followed her father into the kitchen, nudging him aside to place it in the dishwasher.

"Well, she wants to spend more time with us, so she's going to be talking to her boss... and hopefully he'll let her spend more time at home." Having only the vaguest idea about Nikki's meeting, he could only hope it was true.

Jade looked down at her fingers, sticky with syrup. "I don't want her at home. I want you to look after me."

He hesitated. "Your mother loves you, Jade." She didn't look up. "C'mon, we need to get you ready for school. First day back, you don't want to be late." Now she did look up, a wide grin on her face. He smirked and took her hand, leading her out of the room. Despite everything she'd seen, here was proof his daughter was still a little girl: she still thought school was fun.

***

Walking from the Holiday household to South Cairns' Primary took fifteen minutes, but Josh always tried to arrive early. As well as giving Jade time to play with her friends and burn some energy before going into class, it gave him time to talk to the other parents. The day would almost certainly get much hotter, but the bright January morning made for a very pleasant walk.

Things were looking up. Jade's uncharacteristic moodiness, which had started several months ago, was fading away; Josh was sure it was some kind of phase. Occupying her mind with schoolwork could possibly end it. Seeing her friends every day, rather than once or twice a week, would stop her from being so attached to Josh. And hopefully Nikki spending less time at work would heal the growing rift between her and Jade.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a tug on his hand; they had already reached the school. When her father released his grip, Jade was immediately racing through the front gate and into the playground. There was a squeal from several other girls as they ran up to her. Josh couldn't help the wide smile that came as he watched them.

"Josh!"

She was like her mother. Extraordinarily like her mother, in both looks and temperament – though Nikki didn't act like a seven year old. Which had to be a good thing.

"Josh!"

Tearing his gaze from his little girl, Josh grinned. "Mrs Blake," he greeted as she hugged him.

"Sally, Josh. You can call me Sally," the slim young woman laughed.

"It's great to see you," he said.

"It's great to be back. It's been nearly two years."

"Not that long, surely?"

Sally shrugged. "Seven months, plus a year. How long did Nikki take off work..." She trailed off, and there was an awkward silence. "I'm so sorry, Josh, I heard about what happened; I read it in the paper... and with Jade being close to Connor, it must be so hard on you."

He swallowed thickly. "Yeah. And Jade blames Nikki." He hadn't meant to say that – hadn't meant to voice what Nikki already knew, and he had worked so hard to deny. "And uh, I don't think Nikki took much time off. Definitely less than a year..."

"Maybe it's just me," Sally laughed, glad for the change of topic. "It's so hard to be away from my little girl. Chris is a great dad, you should have seen him at the birth. Rushed us to hospital at the first sign of contractions and refused to leave my side for the next three days."

"What did you name her?" Josh asked, interested. He had never met Sally's husband, but he had been friends with her ever since she had taken Jade's Kindergarten class two years ago.

"Chloe," she answered. "Oh, and I'm taking a Year 2 class this year. So I might be teaching Jade again..."

"She'll like that," he mused fondly. "She didn't like her teacher last year much."

"We're not supposed to have favourites," Sally laughed. "But –" She tapped the side of her nose. "Jade is gorgeous. Bright, too. You might have a little genius on your hands."

His gaze immediately picked out his daughter's form in the playground. "I just want her to be normal," he murmured.

"Why? There are so many opportunities for gifted children..."

The arrival of another friend saw Jade running back towards the gate. Josh distinctly heard her say, "Hola, cómo está?"

Sally glanced at him. "Was that Spanish?"

Josh shook his head, repressing a laugh. "Too much Dora."

Over the noise of shouting children, he heard a different sound and quickly reached for his pocket. Stepping away from Sally with a murmured 'excuse me', he answered the phone.

"Hey," he said, trying to ignore the racket around him. "How was your meeting?"

"Fantastic," came the reply, then silence.

"Nikki?"

"Oh, sorry... I'm here. Just a bit tired. Meeting was great. But... Josh. We need to talk."

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I... well, I got the uh, transfer. I'll be in a different division, it's... I need to talk to you."

"Is there a problem?" he asked, suddenly nervous. There was something odd in her voice and he realised with a pang that she hadn't been at home enough lately for him to know what it meant.

"No, well, maybe. It's... it is good news. But we –"

"Need to talk, you said. So talk."

"Not over the phone. I'll probably be home early, we can talk before Jade finishes school today."

"Alright," he said, somewhat doubtfully. "I'm at the school now. Mrs Blake's back, she might be taking Jade this year."

"Okay. I – what the..." There was silence for a moment, broken by the muted sound of Nikki swearing softly and speaking to someone else. Then, "I've got to go. I'll see you later."

And she hung up.

***

She had chosen to call Josh outside the back door of Hammersley, because few people ever came that way and she wanted privacy. As it happened, apparently someone else also wanted privacy.

"Dear God, where have you been?" she asked, blindly shoving her phone back into her pocket.

"Out," Kate replied as she quickly brushed past Nikki, aiming for the door.

"Obviously. Are you okay?"

Kate sighed, pausing with her hand on the door handle. "I'm fine. It looks worse than it is."

"Well, it looks terrible," Nikki pointed out. Kate turned to face her properly, allowing Nikki a good view of her face. The left hand side was red, and a nasty scratch ran down her cheek. "What the _hell_ happened? Where have you been?"

"Working."

"An assignment?"

"Well, it was... something I had to check up on."

"Okay," Nikki said doubtfully. "Just tell me that someone knew where you were."

There was silence for a moment. Then Kate quickly ducked inside the building and started climbing the stairs.

"Kate!" Nikki called, following. "You didn't tell Mike? Anyone?"

"I didn't think he'd let me if he knew."

"Well, maybe there's a reason for that! And what's he going to say now?"

"He's not going to say anything, because I'm not going to tell him." Pausing halfway up the second flight of steps, Kate glared down at Nikki. "And neither are you. Did Mike tell you about your new assignment?"

"Way to change the subject. Yes."

"You going to take it?"

"Yes. Just need to break it to Josh."

"You could tell him the truth," Kate suggested wryly. "The whole truth."

"Nothing but the truth," Nikki muttered. "I don't think _you_ can berate me about lying to my husband."

They continued to climb the stairs, towards the fifth floor, when Kate's phone rang. Glancing down, she grimaced. "Speak of the devil... Hello. I just got in. I'm with her now. Will do. I'll tell you later."

"Keeping in mind you _are_ married to him," Nikki said when Kate had hung up, "How exactly are you going to avoid showing him _that_?"

"I'll think of something. If I can get to my office without him seeing, then I can grab some makeup, and then –"

"You sounded distinctly guilty on the phone just then. You think he won't have noticed?"

"He's male. Men don't notice things." Kate said dismissively, rounding the last corner of the stairwell.

"Unless you happen to already have roused his suspicions by being unaccountably late..."

"This is why I came in the back door."

"And no-one would expect you to use the door furthest away from the boss' office if you're trying not to draw attention to yourself."

Kate smirked as she put her hand on the knob of the door in question. "How would he even know I was coming up the stairs?" Still facing Nikki, she opened it.

"He's the leader of a national security organisation. I think he has a few tricks up his sleeve."

Snorting, Kate turned and walked straight into the stony-faced figure of her boss-slash-husband. She froze. Nikki hung back, watching uncomfortably – she was glad Josh didn't have the same tricks Mike did.

Wordlessly, Mike reached forward, gently took hold of Kate's chin and tilted her head so that he could see the side of her face. Grimacing, she waited for his examination to finish.

"Any explanation?" he asked quietly, releasing her.

"I tripped?" she suggested, and he shook his head.

"Try again."

"I heard that Benny Caton was back in town. So I went to check it out."

"You _what_?" Mike exclaimed, and Nikki's mouth fell open. Benny had been an informant until he had threatened to expose Kate's agent identity to the criminal underworld. Hammersley – and NatSec – were less than impressed. Even though they could have easily locked him up on numerous drugs charges, he would almost certainly have carried out his thread and put an end to Kate's future as a field agent if they had. So instead, they had helped him move south. And now he was back – though Kate didn't do much field work anymore, so his threat was no longer dangerous.

Kate shrugged. "Found him, told him to take a hike."

"And the face?"

"He didn't appreciate the advice and he's got some new friends. I think he's looking to bring his business back."

Mike heaved a sigh. "Pass it on to the cops. And get back to work." Giving her one last stern look and raising an eyebrow to tell her they'd be coming back to the discussion later, he headed back to his own office.

"That went well," mused Nikki. Following Kate out of the stairwell, she added, "Why the hell were you talking to Benny?"

"You're not the only one who misses field work," Kate replied grumpily.

***

"Bloody senfets," Mike muttered, dropping into his chair. 'Senfet' was a term coined by the younger field agents, short for "senior field agent", and it referred to those field agents with the most experience. It was usually a term of respect; but for Mike, senfets were nothing but trouble. They thought they knew everything and were the most likely to mess up an operation by going off half-cocked. Kate didn't usually fall into the category, but she had an independent streak which offered trouble at the most inopportune moments.

Nikki, at least, was never a problem.

There was a sudden buzzing in his pocket and he pulled out his mobile, glancing at the name on display.

"Darryl," he answered. "You got it?"

"HMAS Picton," the agent replied. "It's a patrol boat, based in Cairns."

"The LF Agent's name?"

"No idea," Darryl snorted.

_Senfets_, Mike thought disparagingly. "Can you find out?"

"I do have other things I'm supposed to be doing," Darryl muttered. "I work for NatSec, not you."

"Your help is appreciated," Mike said, his tone sincere. At the same time, he rolled his eyes. NatSec – Australian National Security – was the only organisation Mike had to answer to; though the federal police liked to think they held some sway over his operations. Darryl had been a Hammersley senfet, but had never been able to see eye-to-eye with Mike. For the past several years he had worked for Mike's boss, Steve Marshall, avoiding contact with Mike as much as possible. Some of the antipathy had drained out of their relationship recently, however, when Darryl started offering Mike titbits of information. He seemed to enjoy fuelling the power play between Hammersley and Kingston and offered his help whenever it looked like Hammersley was being pushed onto the back foot. Whether he did the same for Kingston, Mike didn't know.

"I'll see what I can do," Darryl eventually replied.

"Thanks," Mike replied, and ended the call. For a few moments, he just stared at his desk, a headache making its presence known. "Bloody senfets."

***

_Well, _Josh thought,_ at least she's no longer high._ Nikki's caffeinated ramblings that morning had been more than a little out of character. Now, however, a distinctly depressed silence had fallen over the lounge. Despite insisting that they talk, she had given him a single sentence about her day, then collapsed onto the couch, curling up against his chest and saying absolutely nothing.

"You okay?" he murmured. She'd described the meeting as 'great' but he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Something was wrong.

"Do you remember when we met?" she asked in reply.

"Of course. I was a lowly sales assistant, you were complaining about the wiring in your toaster..."

"Fridge, not toaster."

"I'm sure it was a toaster. You couldn't have brought a fridge into the shop."

She shrugged irritably. "That's not the point. Keep going."

"Alright... the guy you'd paid to fix it had done a lousy job, so you decided to harass the sales guy, who wouldn't really have a clue..."

"Except he did."

"Mm, he did." Josh rested his forehead against her shoulder. "And you agreed... if I could fix it you'd let me take you out."

"I was at ADFA," she added.

He murmured an agreement, struggling to follow her train of thought. "Six months later, you left ADFA for the Mystery Job..."

"Yeah..."

"Gonna tell me about your meeting now?"

"It's... complicated." Pressing closer into his embrace, she felt his arms instinctively tighten around her and closed her eyes for a moment. She knew what his reaction would be when he heard the news, so relished the intimacy while she could.

"Just tell me."

"Okay... well. An opportunity has arisen and it would be good for my career if I was to take it."

"Uh-huh, so take it."

"It's... well, after being at ADFA for two years... I have skills I'm not using... and..."

The hesitancy in her explanation didn't fool him in the slightest. She knew exactly what she was trying to say. "They want you to join the Navy."

"Yes."

"Who is 'they'?" he asked, somewhat coldly. This was _not_ good. If this was what he thought it was... it was downright bad.

"The Navy."

"And you want to accept this... offer."

"Yes," she said steadily. He took in a deep breath and she knew he understood; his arms were already falling from her shoulders.

"If you get posted to a boat... you wouldn't be here."

"I wouldn't be here the way I currently am. I'd be away for days, maybe a week at a time... but then I'd spend a week at home."

"One minute you're trying to get shorter working hours, now you're going to be gone for a _week_ at a time? Or longer?"

"Think about it," she instructed, sitting up and facing him. "When I am here, it will be for days. Not just for the evenings and mornings, when Jade's asleep, but all day. We could let her skip school for the day, go to the zoo, do things together... as a family."

"You're serious?" He didn't say anything for a few minutes, struggling to wrap his head around the idea. She waited nervously, studying his face as he processed. "You... you think that _now_, just when Jade needs her life to get back to normal, is the time for you to abandon her?"

"I'm not abandoning her!"

"And you want to teach her to start skipping classes? She may be smart, but she still needs to go to school every day!"

"I'm not talking about pulling her out! Just some relaxation time... it could be what we need."

"She needs you in her life as a mother. As a normal, every-day, average mother. She doesn't need, she doesn't _want_, the woman who is so desperate for action and excitement that she values her job more than her family."

"I will always put my family first," she growled. "And if you..." She broke off and looked away, her throat unexpectedly tight. Swallowing thickly, she stared over his shoulder as she continued. "If you don't think I should take the job, then I won't."

"So now it's all up to me. I have to choose between your damn career and my daughter."

The pronoun caused her to turn her gaze back to him, dark hair flying as she whipped her head around. "No, it's not like that. I am asking for your input, trying to decide what's best for _our_ daughter."

His jaw locked down, and he forced out, "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she'd be better off without you."

Her mouth fell into a horrified 'o' and she stared back at him, tears pricking her eyes. "If you don't like my job, if you want me to leave it and do something else, then just say so. Don't bottle it up and then throw it all in my face. Because I will always do whatever I have to. My career, my job, none of it is worth as much as you and Jade."

Sighing, he glanced at his watch then stood up. "I have to pick Jade up from school. You... do what you think is best."

"I don't know what that is," she admitted in a whisper. But he was already gone.

***

To Kate's chagrin, the mark on her cheek worsened over the course of the day. By the time she arrived home the entire left side of her face was a dark shade of purple, and so puffy she could barely see out of her left eye. The physical discomfort of the bruise was nothing, however, compared to the constant reminder that Mike had been right. So, in retrospect, she shouldn't have gone after a dangerous criminal on her own. Actually, that wasn't even hindsight – she'd known that at the time, which was why she hadn't told Mike, because he would have made a fuss...

But still. Benny had gotten on her nerves when he'd last been here, and she needed to inform him he was still on her radar. He'd been expecting the 'visit', however, and had obviously done well enough in Sydney that he could afford bodyguards. They hadn't really done anything to hurt her, just roughed her up a bit. Ironically, the bruise was her own damn fault, for head butting one of them. Telling Mike that, however, probably wouldn't help.

Speaking of... there was a sudden coolness on her cheek, and she couldn't repress a drawn out sigh.

"Feel good?" he asked as he spread a sweet-smelling cream over the bruise, and she nodded.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's not bad, though."

"Do I have to yell some more? Or will you never do anything that stupid again?"

"No amount of yelling would stop that," she replied with a smirk.

"Bloody senfets," he muttered. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and he had positioned himself behind her, so she leaned back against his chest.

"I've got something to take your mind off senfets," she offered, looking up at his face. At the sight of an upside-down smirk, she said, "Cops love me. They picked Benny up; turns out the Feds have been after him for a few months."

"Oh, bloody Feds!" Mike's dislike of the AFP was no secret. Unfortunately, they were the level of police that Hammersley had to deal with most frequently. They often acted as if NatSec was a subdivision of the AFP, though the two organisations were completely separate.

"He should have stayed south," Kate finished, with a distinct air of satisfaction.

"Stop acting so damn proud of yourself. You're lucky you weren't seriously hurt."

"So you agree. This," she gestured lazily at her cheek, "Is nothing serious."

He rolled his eyes. "I hate you, sometimes. I was so worried when you didn't turn up this morning..."

"I love you, too," she sighed. His strong arms looped around her body and she turned her head sideways to meet his lips. As his chin brushed hers, however, she gasped and leaned away. "Sorry," she said, slightly guiltily.

"Other side, then," he resolved. She turned to the right, glad he wasn't going to hold a grudge.

***

Lying in bed, Kate listened to Mike's heartbeat slow and noted with interest she could hear the exact moment he fell asleep. She, meanwhile, couldn't seem to drift off. It probably had something to do with her throbbing cheek... though she would only admit that to herself. Lifting a hand to gingerly press on the swollen flesh, she noticed the band on her fourth finger, and sighed contentedly, leaning into Mike's warmth.

_Is there anywhere I'd rather be?_ she asked herself, then snorted silently. No. For anyone, it couldn't get better than this... but for her...

At age twelve, Kate McGregor had run away from an abusive step-father and an uncaring mother. She had little on her side except intense determination, an amazing ability to learn and adapt, and a strong, independent spirit. By the time she turned fourteen, she had a criminal record and twelve outstanding warrants for arrest. The only reason she hadn't already been put into juvenile detention or social services care was her skill at evading capture.

It was the same clichéd story that the majority of runaways went through. First came petty theft, as they struggled to feed and clothe themselves. Drugs often followed, which lead to greater expenses and thus greater crimes as the user tried to afford their habit. Having witnessed her mother's deterioration at the hands of alcohol, Kate avoided that path – and instead sank straight down to murder.

Aged sixteen, she'd twice been a victim of rape, and now kept a knife tucked away at all times. One of the dealers in her neighbourhood ignored her threats when she rejected his advances. The next night, he followed her home and "insisted". She never hesitated. Before he even knew she was armed, there was a blade being thrust through his throat. Less than an hour later, she was in police custody and facing life in prison.

At which point Mike Flynn, recently appointed head of the NatSec division 'Hammersley', stepped onto the scene. Watching a late-news update, he caught a brief flash of video showing a struggling blonde teen being cuffed and shoved into a police car. Something had clicked and he was promptly looking over her history.

"_You're better than this. So be better."_

Knowing things couldn't really get much worse, she'd taken the offered job and, even years later, still found it hard to believe just how well it had turned out. Rather than insisting that she learn everything from the school curriculum she had missed, Mike had offered her a choice of subjects. Ironically, she had chosen – and mastered – them all. At the same time, she took lessons in self defence and began to work as a junior agent. Small stuff, mostly – analysing data for patterns or codes, studying the flow of public behaviour in reaction to politics – but also the occasional field assignment. She had experience and connections with and within the lowest rungs of society, thus opened up an entirely new source of information for Hammersley.

At age eighteen, she was given an LF position. Mike hated to see someone with such potential sitting in a long-term position but, as always, she jumped at the opportunity to try something new. She was to play the role of a wealthy businessman's daughter, trying to find the source of a people-smuggling ring that had stumped the Federal police. It would take upwards of six months to get close enough to those involved, but commitment was a strong point and Mike knew she'd get there. Two weeks later, a freak accident blew her cover and she was shot in the chest.

Losing an agent was always a harsh blow, no matter their skill. But as he rushed to the hospital, Mike hadn't been thinking about his brilliant young agent – he'd been worried sick about Kate. Despite waiting rooms, hospital coffee, and the most mind-gnawing worry imaginable, he never cried... not until seventy-five hours later, when she woke and apologised for messing up the assignment.

The fear he felt the entire time she was in hospital wasn't normal. The way he checked up on her almost constantly after she was released wasn't either. He'd eventually admitted to himself, he cared about her on a completely unprofessional level. She was young, but nowhere near young enough to be his daughter, so he tried for a "little sister" analogy. That worked for a while.

Then he'd walked in on her changing into a clean shirt, and he wasn't comfortable with the notion that he would rather his 'little sister' be taking her clothes _off_.

For Kate, the feeling wasn't at all new. There had always been something captivating in his deep blue gaze, something that promised safety, security, love – all the things she had never had before.

The age difference wasn't horrendous. If they'd each been ten years older, no-one would have commented. But neither particularly wanted to wait ten more years before surrendering to the desire that clouded every waking moment. Some people – Senior Agent Darryl Smith among them – made a point of their objection, especially when Kate continued to be promoted above older, more experienced agents. Steve Marshall had looked in on the situation only once, to be sure that Kate really could handle the responsibility Mike was giving her – he hadn't felt the need to check again.

They didn't exactly fight, but they both enjoyed a good throat-ripping debate. Even though he outranked her, it didn't stop her from fully expressing her own opinion or frankly informing him she thought he was wrong. She had finally found someone with whom she could have an intellectual conversation, and the simple act of exercising her mind never lost its appeal.

Unfortunately, neither did the scandal. A few older agents theorised that as Kate had never had anyone else care for her, she felt attached to Mike because he had 'rescued' her. Mike, of course, was a man and thus couldn't resist the lure of a young woman.

Kate may have been young, but she was far from naive. She knew the difference between gratefulness and love. Lying next to Mike at night, feeling his heartbeat thudding softly in her ear, she knew that no matter what else happened in her life, this was as good as it could get. Mike only had to think of her unconscious figure in hospital and knew that he would do anything, go anywhere, for her.

Shortly after Kate turned twenty, a rumour flew around Hammersley that the boss and his blonde senfet were engaged. They didn't deny the claims, expecting it to settle down. It didn't. Eventually, a smirking Mike told them to stop listening to stupid rumours and get back to work. He and Kate weren't engaged, and wouldn't be in the future – they had been married for the past two months.


	6. Navigator: 5

**Navigator – 5**

**Monday, 4****th**** May, 2009**

There were days that he would never forget, and days he never wanted to forget. The 8th of January fell into the former category. The Picton had had shore leave. He'd been enjoying the time off. Then a call from Richard Curry – followed by bullets, blood, and the worst pain he had ever felt in his life.

"_I need your help on this one, Pete. Everyone else is busy."_

"_It's not right."_

"_There's no time."_

Buffer viewed the world simply but critically. Kingston was a good operation and he enjoyed working for them. Like all Kingston agents, he held a disparaging view of Hammersley, but in the aftermath of that day he had wondered whether Mike Flynn would have made the same decision. There was a golden rule applied to LF Agents: while they're in the field, you do not, ever, send them on another assignment. It won't end well.

It hadn't.

Groaning, he rolled over, only to have Rebecca's closest finger stab him in the chest and indicate, none too obscurely, to get out of her bed space. He sighed.

"Can't sleep?" she muttered, her tired eyes glaring at him.

Rolling onto his back, he sighed again. "Nope."

"Know how you feel," she replied grumpily. He didn't say anything and she resignedly propped herself up to look at him. "You thinking about tomorrow?"

"No," he said flatly, his thoughts well-anchored in the past. "What's tomorrow?"

"New recruit," she smirked.

He scowled. "Thanks Bec. I'd just forgotten."

"Won't be that bad," she tried to soothe him. "You've dealt with hippety-hop seamen before."

"Hippety-hop?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "And yes... but I know this kid. By reputation, at least."

"Make him scrub the deck a few times. Curry reckons he'll come good once he gets knocked about a bit, settles down."

Buffer glanced sideways, smiling as faint moonlight played over her face. "What are you going to do for the next week?" he asked.

"Spend the nights sleeping, for a start." Her eyes half closed and she sighed deeply. Suddenly she snapped her face to the right, examining him thoughtfully. "On the other hand... if I'm not going to be sleeping tonight..." Her lips touched his shoulder as her fingers danced across his bare chest, barely touching the skin.

He smiled and relaxed under her ministrations for a few moments, before rolling over to take hold of her waist. "Nah, not much chance of any more sleep," he agreed, fingering the hem of her shirt. "I want my going away present."

"I want my staying-here compensation," she replied, pushing him down to sit astride him. His hands moved to rub her thighs, his rough fingers creating a pleasant contrast against her smooth skin.

"Whatever you call it," he grunted, pulling her nightshirt over her head and discarding it somewhere on the other side of the room, "I just want you." He then propped himself up with one elbow and moulded his mouth to hers, ensuring she couldn't reply.

***

The sea was a soft, deep blue, rolling calmly under a pink dawn. Buffer sighed. Good weather, which he was thankful for. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with Spider during a cyclone. Of course, it wasn't cyclone season, but you never knew what fate would throw you.

"Morning, Buffer," a voice called, and he looked up to see the CO on the quarterdeck. Lieutenant Commander Charlie Jonson had been the captain of HMAS Picton for the past three years, and Buffer had never known a better man. Honest, easy going, and willing to give everyone a chance; his crew worked hard through a sense of loyalty rather than a fear of punishment.

"Good morning, sir," Buffer replied, breathing in the sea air with a degree of satisfaction as he stepped across the gangplank, saluting stiffly. "Excellent weather."

"It is," Jonson agreed. "Lucky for the newbies."

"Aye." Buffer smiled wryly at the fact he'd thought the same thing only moments ago. He completely missed the plural Jonson had added – until the CO continued.

"I want you to give them the tour when they arrive."

Buffer started to nod, then frowned. "'They', sir? I thought we were getting a new seaman?"

Jonson nodded. "We are. Someone also threw us a new Navigator."

"The Armidales don't need Navs," Buffer snorted, raising an eyebrow.

Shrugging, the CO moved to go inside. "ADFA graduate on her first posting. Lieutenant... Caetano, if memory serves me right. They sent her to us so she can get some experience."

_She?_ Buffer repeated silently to himself. _Well. She's got to be better than Spider._

***

Wow. She definitely _looked_ better. Buffer had been expecting someone in their early twenties, but this woman was probably closer to thirty. She didn't have the nervous eyes of a young graduate, but nor was she as relaxed as someone who was onto their fiftieth posting and used to the process. Her whites were perfectly clean and ironed, her dark brown hair was neatly pinned up, and her posture indicated professionalism and efficiency.

In contrast, the fidgeting Spider looked like he'd been pulled out of bed half an hour after his alarm, at which point he had sacrificed appearance in the hope of not being overly late. Which was almost certainly what had happened. To his credit, he was fifteen minutes early, as was the Nav, which left time for a rundown before they left port.

"Ma'am," he greeted first, holding out a rough hand towards the woman. She shook it formally, then saluted. "Seaman Webb. Welcome aboard Picton. My name's Buffer, I'll be showing you around before we get started today."

"Thankyou, Buffer," she replied with a smile. It was a nice smile, he realised. So natural and warm it was almost familiar.

At her side, the kid grinned widely. "They call me Spider," he said, giving Buffer a rather obvious wink. "So, what are we hoping to do today? Find some terrorists? Stop a drug ring?"

Buffer suppressed a groan, the effort made far easier by the look of amusement on the Nav's face. "No, Webb. We're going out on patrol. If something happens, we'll be there to stop it. A foreign fishing vessel in our water is about as exciting as it usually gets."

"Oh, okay," Spider said, looking extremely deflated. Buffer had no idea what Spider had been told would happen on board, but he wanted to find whoever had done the telling and throttle them.

"Hey, Buff!" called a bright voice, and Buffer turned to see the blonde head of one of his crewmates bounding over the gangplank.

"Ma'am, Spider, this is our electronics technician, Leading Seaman Kosov-Meyer."

"They call me 2Dads," the leading seaman said with a grin. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to say something further, and Buffer sent him a warning glare. But, after a brief – and rather blatant – scan of her body, 2Dads' eyes fell on the Nav's ring finger – and the gold band resting snugly there. Buffer could almost see his thought process. Obviously deciding that a better use of his time would be to get breakfast _before_ the morning watch, 2Dads threw the group a lazy salute and headed straight for the galley.

Buffer turned his attention back to Spider. The officer would be a fairly negligible addition, but no doubt Jonson would make her feel useful. Either way, so long as she didn't steer the ship towards a reef, she wasn't Buffer's problem. Spider most certainly was.

Now that he thought about it, the kid wasn't as bad as he'd been expecting. Definitely over-eager, but Curry was right; a few weeks of hard labour would probably get him into line. He didn't look exceptionally bright, but he must have some redeeming points or he'd never have been accepted as an agent.

"Alright. We haven't got long before casting off, so I'll just show you where everything is, and you can hopefully work from there." With that, he turned rather abruptly, having decided to start with the lower decks and work his way up to the bridge.

Many things about this morning were turning out far different to what he had expected.

***

"You didn't come home last night."

Darryl's voice was tight and controlled, but Rebecca could tell that he was angry. "No, I didn't," she agreed, then failed to elaborate further. She had wandered into his room just as he was due to leave, so he wouldn't have time to yell at her properly. Better now than tonight, when he could really make a fuss and ruin the entire dinner-eating experience.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm responsible for you, Bec. If you want to stay out all night, then fine, but tell me where you're going –"

"I'm nearly twenty-two, Darryl. I don't need to tell you anything." She kept her voice as cool as she could, but already her tongue was burning with a dozen things she'd _like_ to say to him.

"Unfortunately," Darryl continued, glaring at her as he pulled on a jacket, "Your father doesn't see it like that."

"So? I don't –"

"He's my uncle, Bec, and a smart man. He let you come to the city on the condition that I would look after you."

"That was years ago!" she protested. "I'm legal now."

"Just..." Sighing, he shoved his wallet into his pocket and headed for the door. "I'm not going to watch you, you're too old for that. Just let me know what you're doing, where you're going... who you're spending the night with. So that _if_ something goes wrong, you're not alone."

Following her cousin down the hall, Rebecca crossed her arms. "Stop trying to control me, and I promise I won't get killed, abducted, injured, raped... did I forget anything?" Darryl muttered something, and she glared. "What was that?"

"Arrested," he repeated loudly. "Don't get arrested." With that, he grabbed his car keys and slammed the front door. She glared at the wood for a few moments, then went back to her room. She'd had several off-and-on part-time jobs over the past few years, but Darryl didn't seem to have any gripe about supporting her – especially considering his large NatSec salary – and so she spent as much time as she could either with her boyfriend or hanging around Kingston HQ.

Her thoughts turned to the former. Buffer, as his crewmates called him. They'd been serious for over a year now, and her feelings for him were subtly changing each day. She didn't just think about the welcome home he'd get after this patrol, or what they'd do when he next had shore leave; she found herself wondering what they'd be doing this time next year, or the year after. If she moved in with him, that would get Darryl off her back, and hopefully her father off Darryl's. Then there'd be nothing to make Curry hesitate about hiring her as an agent. She'd have the job, have the boyfriend – no, the _husband_, she corrected with a smile – and everything would be just right.

Buffer was a good man, with a soft side you'd never guess about from looking at the muscles. The knowledge that he trusted her with it always sent a warm feeling through her. She loved the sense of security she felt whenever he was nearby. She loved the warmth that flowed through those deep caramel eyes, and she loved the way his body fit alongside hers, and... flopping down onto her bed, she took in a deep breath. She loved _him_.

And right now, she missed him. Sitting up and kicking over a nearby boot, she wondered what she'd do with today. Darryl was at work, and wouldn't be back until evening. Buffer would be away for a week. Her eyes fell to the boot now lying on its side in the middle of her room. Yeah. Her second favourite past-time; seeing what was happening in and around Australia's finest national security agency – Kingston.

Either that, or she could get herself arrested, just to see the look on Darryl's face... with a smirk, she changed into thick jeans and leather jacket, then grabbed her helmet.


	7. Navigator: 6

**Navigator – 6**

**Friday 15****th**** May 2009**

"Hey, Buff."

"Yeah?"

"It's been two weeks."

Buffer rubbed a hand over his face. Most of the crew were relaxing down at the local pub after a four-day patrol. Spider had chosen this moment to approach Buffer with his usual eager expression, and Buffer could instantly see what he wanted.

"It has," he agreed carefully, lifting his beer glass to force Spider to spit it out. At least the kid had had the sense to wait until Buffer was away from the group.

"Well, I've been on watch, I've cleaned half the ship, I've been on watch again, I did my first boarding... but for two weeks, all we've picked up is a single illegal fishing boat."

"You cleaned half the ship?" Buffer repeated, frowning. "What about the other half?" Spider's face fell and Buffer knew that if he ordered it, the kid would right now run back to the ship to go over it again. "Kidding. Spider, that's a normal patrol. FFVs are about as exciting as it gets for the most part."

"Yeah, I know... but, _Buff..._" Spider leaned forward, and Buffer grimaced, taking another mouthful of beer. Maybe if someone gave the kid a drink, he'd shut up. "When do we get to, y'know... why I'm here?"

Damn. Even Spider would realise Buff didn't want to talk to him if he tried to drink from an empty glass. He caught the bartender's attention, raised his empty glass and two fingers, then studied Spider carefully. There was no point playing dumb any longer.

"Okay, Spider. Can you tell me what an LF position is?"

Spider nodded forcibly. "Long-term field position." Buffer waited, and he tried expanding his definition. "A... a position in the field lasting more than six months?"

"Yes. Now... your shout." Spider blinked as two beers appeared on the table, then fished for his wallet. Buffer waited until the bartender had left hearing range before continuing. "Now, what's an LF Agent?"

"An agent in an LF position," Spider began, and looked as if he was going to try adding more detail, but Buffer held up a hand.

"An agent who is in the field for a long time. You agree?" Spider nodded. "Okay. Juggling two roles at once isn't easy. If you're no good at either, it's going to be extremely difficult. Now, I can make you good at both. First step?" He waited for Spider to nod. "_Trust me._ I've been in the Navy for fifteen years, and a Kingston agent for over half that. Secondly; get the Navy stuff right first. If you can't do that, you're no good. Once I see you doing it perfect every time, then I'll get you started on the spy stuff. Slow and steady, Spide. You're LF now. You're not going to run out of time."

The two beers sat untouched as Spider considered. "Alright," he agreed eventually. "But..."

"I won't forget," Buffer promised. "Just be patient." Gesturing at the drinks, Buffer glanced over towards the rest of the crew. They had a large table to themselves and seemed completely unaware of his absence, which was useful, if a little hurtful.

The silence was comfortable, neither Buff nor Spider feeling the need to speak as they both made their way through another two glasses. People at the tables around them came and left; some areas of the pub became louder, while others neared silence.

"Hey Buff," Spider began, and Buffer murmured something quietly, to let Spider know he was listening. "Are you a senfet?"

For a while, there was silence, and Buffer took the time to look around the room. As it became later, the families went home and only the heavy drinkers remained. Most of their crewmates were still there, sitting down with their drinks on the other side of the room, laughing loudly at some joke. His gaze eventually rested on the ceiling as he pondered the question.

"Not... officially," he decided. "I've been an agent long enough, and had the experience... but I am, and always have been, LF... so it doesn't count. LF Agents can't become senfets without leaving the position, and no-one puts a senfet into an LF position..."

Spider nodded, his eyes straying up to see what had caught Buffer's attention. There seemed to be nothing interesting about the plaster, so he returned to his original question. "Senfets don't like me," he said, his voice oddly flat.

Though his gaze remained on the ceiling, Buffer felt a moment of surprise. "Why not?" he asked.

"They think I'm dumb." Again, the strange emotionless of his voice. Buffer felt a moment of pity for him, which deepened as Spider continued. "I don't _get_ things as fast as some of the others. I hate working undercover, because I _suck_ at it. Lying isn't easy for me, and people can always tell if I try."

Buffer shut his eyes against the bright pub lights. He wasn't particularly curious about Spider's troubles with senfets – it wasn't surprising that the senior agents didn't like to be paired with the naive youngster. However, it appeared that Spider had not only noticed the adverse feelings, he even understood _why_. Buffer felt his interest rising. What Spider would have noticed would be little more than veiled comments between agents or snide glances. To understand so instinctively what those things meant...

"So don't lie," he found himself saying. "Just leave things out."

"I'm not very good at that, either," Spider mumbled, his gaze falling to the table.

"That's what I'm here for," Buffer said with a smile. "Start small. For now, just think of yourself as a brand new seaman, looking to impress. And I'll make sure you're too busy to think about anything else."

***

"Dinner conversations are... awful," Kate muttered, as she and Nikki prepared dinner. Josh and Mike had offered to help, and Nikki had very nearly snarled as she chased them out. Not until several days at sea had she realised what she missed most – cooking. As her parents' only daughter, her mother had spent many hours training her in the kitchen. Cooking was something she did to calm herself down, which Kate found odd, because the process of making a full meal for five people involved quite a bit of movement and stress. Well, she found it stressful.

"Just don't say anything about work except "good" and "fine", and there's not a problem," Nikki replied dismissively. "Don't offer and he won't ask."

"What else am I supposed to say?" Kate muttered. Suddenly clicking her tongue, she pulled her thumb away from the knife she was using to cut a tomato. She looked up to see Nikki cutting potatoes with an incredible speed and efficiency. "How the _hell_ do you do that?"

"Practise," Nikki answered calmly. "Why do you ask that every time we're in a kitchen together? And just talk about normal stuff, life."

Momentarily thrown by the sudden return to their original conversation, Kate took a moment to carefully reposition her fingers around the tomato before cutting another slice. "My normal stuff is work. There's me, Mike, and work. And Mike is part of work, so..."

"Read a newspaper," Nikki suggested, rolling her eyes as she sliced a potato perfectly into thirds without looking. "There's a lot going on in the world."

"Yeah, and if he mentions something like the recent bomb threat the AFP stopped? I've got to remind myself not to tell him how we found out about that. Why can't you just _tell_ him? It'd make things so much easier..."

"He doesn't want to know," Nikki protested, her tone edging towards annoyed. She couldn't help the smile that spread over her face, as she watched Kate struggling to slice a tomato that was already in as many pieces as they were going to get from it. "I'm not lying to him, just... omitting certain details."

"I think he'd want the truth. And what's he going to do?"

"Going into the Navy had him mad for a week. He doesn't want me doing something _big_ and _dangerous;_ he likes things the way they are."

"Me? I'd like dinner sometime tonight," came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see Josh poking his nose through the doorway, sniffing carefully.

"It won't happen with you standing there," Nikki chastised, waving a knife at him.

"Need any help?" he offered, wide eyes gazing at her wistfully.

"I said, _no_," she said, and took a step towards him. "Shoo. We'll tell you when it's ready."

"You know I can cook," he protested. "How come Kate gets to help?"

Nikki glanced over at Kate, who was glancing between them and her rather flat tomato. "Because I don't want _help_," she said with a smile. Josh smiled back – then found himself being propelled out the door. With a sigh, he gave up and returned to where Mike was playing with Jade.

"You owe him the truth," Kate continued quietly.

"That is the truth," Nikki said vaguely. "When I'm cooking, it's my cooking time, and no-one else's."

"You know what I meant," Kate snapped. She glanced at her salad. "You want to take over here?"

Nikki shook her head. "No, you do a good salad. But having Josh in here as well..."

"Okay," Kate said doubtfully, looking down at the various nicks on the chopping board – and her fingers – which had been made as she tried to do something no more complicated than slice fruit. "Besides. Even if it's not _necessary, _I think he'd appreciate you being totally honest. How would he feel if he found out you were lying?"

"I'm not lying," Nikki repeated, rolling her eyes. "He knows I work for a security company. And that I've agreed to do a tour of duty or two in the Navy..."

Seeing a lost cause, Kate just sighed, and turned her attention to the nearby lettuce. Shredding. She could do that. Of course she could...

***

"Kate's making the salad," Josh reported as he came back outside, causing Mike to chuckle.

"I'll stick to the roast, then," he said, and Josh nodded in agreement as he sat back down and picked up his beer.

"Hey uncle Mike," Jade began, lifting one hand to touch Mike's ear thoughtfully. "You should get earrings."

Mike raised an eyebrow at Josh, who had burst out laughing at the suggestion.

Jade looked between them. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

"Men don't wear earrings, kiddo," Josh told her, still grinning.

Jade crossed her arms and glared. "One of the men teachers has one."

"One, maybe," Mike said, touching her pouting cheek. "Don't look at me like that, you're as bad as you're mother."

The glare instantly fell from Jade's face, and she jumped into Josh's lap. "I think I look like daddy," she announced. Despite her long brown hair, oval face and bright green eyes, neither of the men disagreed.

Unable to lift his beer to his mouth with Jade on his lap, Josh shoved her off again. "I think you're too heavy." He winked at Mike. "Too many pancakes."

Trying to look offended, Jade trotted into the house, probably to ask Nikki whether they could have pancakes for dinner instead of a roast.

"How's she doing at school?" Mike asked, watching her go.

"Fantastic," Josh replied, rather glumly. At Mike's questioning look, he sighed and continued. "I think she's doing _too_ well. She barely spends any time on her maths homework, but gets every answer right. She's reading books from the young adult section of the library, and she'd try adult if I let her. She has an amazing memory, too."

"Why is this bad?" Mike asked, frowning. "You should be proud."

"I am proud. But... I'm worried about her. If she turns into a nerd she'll have no friends..."

Mike snorted. "No risk of that. She's as sociable as her mother, and as good with people."

"And I am getting sick of people pointing out how much like Nikki she is," Josh growled. "I'm the one who looks after her and they act as if she must spend every waking moment with her mother. She hardly spends any time with Nikki, even when she _is_ here." Josh suddenly closed his mouth, glancing between the door and Mike. While talking to her boss probably wasn't the best time to be complaining about Nikki's job.

"I don't think anyone forgets that you're her father, Josh," Mike replied calmly. "Jade certainly doesn't. Neither does Nikki."

Breathing in deeply, Josh nodded. "Yeah. That's what's important, right?" Mike smiled, and there was a pause. "You ever going to talk to Kate about kids?" Josh asked as he took a handful of chips. Despite the impending dinner, a bowl of potato chips on the table between them was nearing emptiness. Josh had been trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to prevent Jade from spoiling her dinner.

Mike hesitated. "I don't... know. Maybe we wouldn't be good parents."

Laughing, Josh waved a hand at the door. "You remember when Nikki was pregnant with Jade?"

"Of course," Mike said wryly. Nikki had furiously read through every book, article and story she could about mothering. Josh had always considered decaf coffee a contributing factor to her manic behaviour while pregnant. She hadn't stopped working, however, insisting that she needed to support her family. "I can just see Kate with a kid... wondering whether to file it under first name or surname."

"What'd we do to marry workaholics?" Josh groaned.

Mike chuckled, took a gulp of his beer, and changed the topic. "How's business going?"

"I have some," Josh said with a wry smile. During school term, he had the daytimes free, and had set up a small repair shop in the garage. Having spent most of his teen years fiddling with wires and electronic appliances, he was able to fix pretty much anything that came through the roller door. He had become accustomed himself to the idea that it was Nikki supporting them, and kept the shop running mainly to keep himself occupied.

"Daddy makes lots of friends," Jade interrupted, once again searching for attention. Though she was more than capable of entertaining herself, she had a tendency to gravitate towards company. Unfortunately, there were no children to play with, and the adults were too busy talking to one another to pay attention to her.

"They're not _friends_, sweetie," Josh corrected. "Just... people I meet, and help."

"If you help them, they should be your friends," she insisted. "That's what Dora says."

Josh couldn't help but laugh. "She's into a _friends_ stage at the moment."

"I see she hasn't outgrown the Dora stage," Mike said with a smirk.

Jade crossed her arms, waited for one of them to say something to her. When they didn't, she sighed loudly and sat down on the floor.

"She's started speaking Spanish from it, too," Josh said, snorting softly.

Mike forced out a laugh, his eyes narrowing as he studied the girl. "Hola Jade," he called, and she grinned up at him.

"Tío Mike," she replied. "¿Cómo está?"

Josh watched in interest as Mike thought carefully, then replied, "Bueno, ¿y tu?"

"Quiero crepes. ¿Cuántos tiempo hasta cena?"

"Pregunte a tu madre," Mike said sternly, ignoring Josh's open mouth. "¿Ella le enseña ablar español?"

"Habla a veces," Jade said slowly, sounding almost guilty. Josh looked between his friend and his daughter, unable to understand more than a few words like "bueno" and "madre". "Por el teléfono, y charla a amigos. Escucho. Quiero hablar como Dora."

Finally remembering how to use his tongue, Josh broke in with a surprised, "Woah." He stared at Jade for another moment, then looked at Mike. "Mate, I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"Just a bit. Enough to communicate with the little explorer," Mike replied with a wink, though there was something troubled in his expression.

"Does she know what she's saying?" Josh asked, putting an arm around Jade.

Mike shrugged. "I'd say so. You're right; she must be a fantastic learner."

"She's not exactly the queen of culinary skills," Nikki said dryly behind them. The two men and Jade turned, looked at her for a single moment, then bounded out of their seats, racing past her. Nikki rolled her eyes. "Dinner's ready," she muttered to the empty backyard.

***

"Dinner's ready," Sally called, carrying two steaming plates of lasagne out to the table. Chris appeared in the doorway, and it was impossible to tell whether he'd been drawn by his wife's voice or the smell of food. Before he could enter the room, however, there was an excited squeal, and a little girl of about two squeezed around his legs and trotted towards the table.

Suddenly she found her legs kicking mid-air. "Daddy!" she yelled, and Chris chuckled.

"Let's put you up here," he said, settling her into the high chair.

Eyes gleaming, she grabbed the spoon resting on her placemat, and looked hopefully up at Sally. "le-sah-ya." Sally laughed, put the two plates down, then returned to the kitchen to fetch Chloe's much smaller serve.

"How was everything at school?" Chris asked as she came back in.

"It was good," she replied. No sooner had she presented her daughter with the plate than the spoon went into action. "We were learning our times tables."

"Why?" Chloe interrupted. There was a pause, as Sally and Chris sent a half-amused, half-exasperated look across the table.

"That's part of my job," Sally said. "I have to teach the older kids about numbers."

"Three!" the little girl exclaimed.

Chris nodded. "Three is a number."

Chloe shook her head. "No, daddy," she insisted, waving a hand at him. "Us three."

Sally smiled at Chris, and tilted her head at Chloe. "We're three," she agreed. "Would you like us to be four?"

A puzzled expression flew over Chloe's face, and she stopped eating. "How?"

Chris choked slightly. When Sally raised an eyebrow at him, he quickly resorted to taking a large mouthful of lasagne.

"If you had a little brother or sister... we'd be four," Sally eventually replied, choosing to ignore the actual meaning behind the question. Before Chloe could repeat the query, Sally added, "Would you like that?"

After a moment, Chloe nodded. "Bro-vver," she said tentatively. With a happy smile, she returned to her lasagne, and her parents resumed their initial conversation as if it hadn't been interrupted.

"So, which times table are they up to?" Chris asked.

Sally shrugged. "Well, we were working on the fours today. Half the class are doing well, a few are still having trouble with three, and two already know them."

"Really?" Chris said, eyebrows lifting and fork pausing. "Do you think they could be Accent candidates?" Accent was a program introduced by Richard Curry, and was short for "Accelerated Agent". Curry's plan was to target young students who showed great potential, so that by the time they were old enough to be accepted as agents they would already have had the training and be far superior to their peers.

"One's being pushed by his parents. The other is, if I dare use the term, a genius."

Now Chris' interested was definitely peaked, and a forkful of lasagne had been hovering halfway between his mouth and his plate for far longer than normal. "Have you spoken to his parents?"

"Her," Sally corrected. "And only the father. The mother works a lot, I've only met her a few times. Problem is; he doesn't seem to want to think of her as special."

"Yummy!" Chloe exclaimed suddenly, pointing at her father's motionless fork.

He blinked at her, then nodded. "Yes, it is yummy." Finally finishing the mouthful, he found his appetite returning. "What's her name?"

"Jade Holiday," Sally said, and Chris frowned, recognising the name. Sally lowered her voice to continue. "She was involved in that park shooting last year. Remember, a young boy was killed?"

"I remember," he said sadly. "You said something at the time..."

"I also taught Jade in 2007," Sally added. "She was bright then, too, but it's become more pronounced now that they're getting into the real stuff."

"She recovered from the shooting, then?"

"She wasn't actually injured; she just had the psychological trauma. And I didn't see her in the time right after... but she doesn't seem too different from the five-year-old I knew before."

Chris considered, and nodded. "Resilient, then. See if you can talk to the mother. If she is a genius, she won't want to be stuck with the other kids. Curry will definitely be interested."

There was a lull in the conversation as they turned their attention to eating. Chris allowed his thoughts turn to Richard Curry. Not the most morally grounded of men, but a good leader, with a sharp mind. Chris didn't really like him, but these days didn't have to work closely with him. Mid-2007, when Sally began her maternity leave, Chris had stepped down from his position as a senfet to be able to work from home. Nowadays he dealt with the queries and crises of junior agents; while not as interesting as field work, it was still a challenge and it allowed him to keep an eye on his daughter at all times. Sally had this year returned to her teaching position, and Chris had become adept at juggling the day-time Chloe-care with his job.

Together, he and Sally were able to handle each day with ease. There was nothing he would change.


	8. Navigator: 7

**Navigator – 7**

**Monday 25****th**** May, 2009**

"I smell... apple and cinnamon... muffins," Nikki said slowly as she came down the hall towards the galley, pausing every few words to sniff the air appreciatively.

"None of those store-bought pre-mixed things, either," Chefo grinned, pulling a muffin tray out of the oven. "These are real."

"My favourite," she said, leaning against the empty serving counter to inhale the smell of warm cinnamon.

Chefo winked. "But you've never had mine before. This is the Jones' family recipe." As he spoke, he skilfully flipped the muffins from the tray onto a cooling rack, and Nikki eyed them eagerly.

Before she could reply, an amused voice came from down the hall. "A month on Picton, and she's never tasted your muffins?"

Nikki choked slightly, and Chefo chuckled. Shaking his head, Buffer couldn't help but join the laughter.

"You should try mine," Nikki added, causing the two men to glance at one another in surprise. A second later, Nikki added a lewd wink, and they snorted with laughter. This wasn't how officers normally acted – but it was how their Nav did. It made for a nice change from the stiff XO and the friendly-but-private captain.

There was a sharp bang, and the three of them looked up as 2Dads entered the galley, making a beeline for the muffins. With incredible speed, Chefo moved to stand defensively in front of them.

2Dads glanced around, noted Buffer and Nikki standing outside, then returned his attention to Chefo. "Can I _please_ have one?" he asked, putting so much emphasis on the 'please' it sounded sarcastic.

Chefo raised one hand and pointed at the door. "Not while you're standing there."

"Hey, come on, I've only got a few minutes until my next watch..."

"Then you'd better hurry up and join the queue," Chefo shifted position as 2Dads tried to dodge around him, leaving the leading seaman frustrated and empty handed.

Glancing again at Buffer and Nikki, both of whom were struggling to repress laughter, 2Dads put his hands on his hips and tried to draw himself up. "Able. Give me a muffin." At which point, Buffer lost the fight and had to lean against the serving counter to remain upright.

Chefo raised an eyebrow. "Sailor, get out of my galley."

For a few seconds, 2Dads was able to do nothing but stare, open-mouthed. Whenever any of the other crew tried pulling rank, it got them instantaneous results. He turned to Nikki. "He disobeyed a direct order!"

Chuckling, Nikki shook her head. "In the galley, Chefo is King. Even the CO knows that," she said.

"You've been here a lot longer than the Nav, and she already gets it," Chefo said with satisfaction. Deftly reaching behind him, he grabbed one of the still-hot muffins and, with a short whistle, chucked it to Nikki. She caught it with a grin, then bit slowly into the fluffy top, her eyes closing.

"Mmm... You're going to have to show me how you make these," she told him.

He clicked his tongue. "And give away a family recipe?"

Nikki considered a moment, chewing silently. "What if I give you a Caetano family recipe?"

"You think there's something I don't know how to make?" he said with a snort. Beside him, 2Dads was still fidgeting, and about to make another grab at the muffin rack.

"I'm sure you'd know _how_ to make everything... but you've never had mine," Nikki replied smugly.

Chefo acceded her point with a single nod then, lightning fast, grabbed a muffin which was only centimetres from 2Dads' searching fingers.

With a sigh, 2Dads found his most pathetic expression and aimed it at Chefo. "Your royal highness," he began. "King of the Galley. Lord of the Oven. Supreme Ruler of the Cool Storeroom. May I please have a muffin?"

When Chefo said nothing, Buffer tapped the wall next to him. "The queue's out here," he said, and lifted both hands, cricket-style, to catch the second muffin as it was thrown to him.

"But I don't have time to go out there," 2Dads protested, glancing back towards the bridge.

"Then you should have come out here in the first place," Nikki suggested, and he threw up his arms.

"Fine, I'll go out there..."

"I thought you had watch?" Buffer interrupted, glancing at his wrist. "And if I'm not mistaken, it started two minutes ago."

Nikki found she had no sympathy for 2Dads' aching stomach. He had most likely spent the last hour thinking of new ways to make life uncomfortable for his crewmates and thus forgotten about food until just before his watch.

"He's not too bad," Buffer conceded as 2Dads reluctantly left the galley. "He's not great, but he's quick-thinking and rational in a crisis. And he's yet to electrocute himself."

"There's been an unfortunate lack of ETs lately," Chefo noted.

A thoughtful expression on her face, Nikki commented, "My husband's an electrician. Has a workshop in our garage, makes a bit of money doing repairs and stuff."

"Hey, Nav," Chefo said brightly. "When are we going to meet this husband of yours? You should bring him down to the pub next time, you always skip off home."

"I, uh, no, I'd better not," Nikki replied, suddenly flustered. Josh meet the crew? She could see way too many inherent problems. Not, of course, that he knew anything that they shouldn't know... but someone on this boat was an enemy, and she didn't want them anywhere near her family.

"Navy girls are supposed to be able to keep up with the drinks," Buffer challenged, raising an eyebrow.

The comment pushed Nikki back into her stride, and she smirked. "I could drink you all under the table. But it wouldn't be a good idea."

"What, you've got a secret life you're trying to hide?" Buffer asked, and Nikki felt her pulse accelerate. Most likely an innocent question, a joke; possibly not. There was one answer that would blow her cover instantly, and she wasn't going to give it.

"Yeah," she replied glibly. "It's called my husband and daughter."

The wrong answer would have been vehement denial. But watching Chefo carefully store the remaining muffins in a air-tight container, and Buffer twist his lips in amusement, she doubted either of them would have picked up on it.

Finishing the last bite of the divine apple and cinnamon muffin, Nikki left the two men to their discussion – which had somehow turned to the best fishing spot in Cairns – and headed back to her cabin. Her mind slowly trawled through the last month, and the people she had met.

All they'd been able to dig up on Kingston's Picton agent was that he – or she – had been there for at least two years. So far no-one had struck Nikki as the secret-agent type – which meant they were good at what they did. The time frame was enough to cancel out nearly half the crew of HMAS Picton, not least the eager young seaman who had arrived on the same day as her. In addition, she doubted it was any of the junior sailors, for the same reason Mike had needed her on board as an officer – in the defence force, rank was everything, and without it an agent would be nearly useless.

She was starting to catalogue a list of names in her head, which she would pass on to Kate after some more thought. Maybe one of them would match something in Hammersley's database.

First, the CO. Jonson. He was friendly and worked hard to get along with the crew, but his private life was a total mystery. He'd been on Picton for three years, and nothing went on that he didn't know about. Nikki was somewhat worried about the possibility that Kingston could have an agent in a leadership position; and not only that, if it _was_ Jonson, her job would be a lot harder.

Second was the Buffer. Again, the timeframe was right and, as friendly as he was, he didn't talk about himself much. Of course, many people didn't – she herself tried to be as open as possible without giving away the details. But with no idea of his personal circumstances, Nikki couldn't evaluate. He had access to most of the information that arrived on the ship, as well as any that he found on boardings. As a person, she liked him; he was generally straightforward and hardworking, and not once had she heard of him shirking any of his duties.

2Dads, despite his rank, had caught her eye. She wasn't sure how long he had been on the ship, but he'd have been in the Navy long enough to work his way up to Leading Seaman, so it was possible. Everyone saw him as lazy and self-pandering; but perhaps it was all an act. Thinking about the scene from a moment ago, Nikki snorted. Or maybe it wasn't. Either way, he was someone to watch.

She paused for a moment on the idea of Chefo, and literally hesitated mid-step. Pushing herself forward and down the stairs, she considered the possibility. Able Seaman Toby Jones had definitely not been on Picton long enough... but she couldn't get the idea out of her head. As the chef, he was privy to details other junior sailors couldn't hope to hear. Of course it didn't fit... but she wouldn't dismiss the notion just yet. Just in case her instincts were right – and who was to say Kingston didn't have two agents?

While she was on worse-case scenarios, her thoughts swung to the executive officer, Lieutenant Stark. Like the CO, he outranked her, and knew a lot more than she did. He didn't even try for a friendly persona, however – he was stiff and formal, and never attended social occasions. That, and the fact that he had been XO for barely two years, kept him off Nikki's suspect list.

Mentally running through a few more names, Nikki was left with only one more viable option. Andy Thorpe, the –

"Charge," she said in surprise, turning the corner and coming face to face with the stocky man who had just entered her thoughts.

"Morning, Nav," he said, stepping aside. Definitely a strong possibility, she decided, smiling as she moved past him. An uncomfortable one, too. He'd been on Picton the longest of any other sailors, and knew everything there was to know about the ship. She technically ranked above him, but he had experience she could only dream about; and the CO would likely side with him in a dispute. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

***

Rebecca Brown was bored. Extremely bored. She supposed she could get a job... but it wasn't like she needed the money, and she wanted to be available next time Curry desperately needed an unassigned agent. On that train of thought, she could go down to Kingston headquarters and see if there was anything happening, but she knew from experience that she'd probably be handed either paperwork or a lecture on respecting her father's wishes. She wasn't a city girl; she wasn't going to start running around acting like the CIA, she wasn't going to give her cousin any trouble or she wasn't going to be staying away from home for much longer... Growling to herself, she rolled her motorbike helmet around in her hands.

"_Don't get arrested."_ She pondered the statement. Fun? Maybe, maybe not. The power to annoy Darryl? Definitely. How did one go about getting arrested, anyway? Anything more than a traffic infringement and they'd lock her up, which certainly wouldn't be fun... But not her bike, she wouldn't run the risk they would impound it or take her licence... Nothing that would require her to pay anyone, because Darryl would probably cut her money flow and make her get a job... Maybe play really loud music until the neighbours complained? Would probably work, but she didn't really like loud music.

She had never realised just how hard it would be to get arrested. It was midday on a Monday. Buffer was at sea and he wouldn't be back for a few days. Not that he'd have any time for her when he returned, seeing as he was always watching Spider these days...

Friends. That was what she needed. Sighing, she realised that they weren't something she could find just when she wanted them. At home she'd had plenty, but here she was too busy playing super-spy to just meet people. Even her boyfriend she had met while doing errands for Kingston.

_Super-spy_, she wondered, an idea hovering just out of reach. She could practise being a field agent, couldn't she? Even if it wasn't an actual assignment, she'd learn something, so when Curry finally hired her, she'd be able to impress him.

And then the thought hit her fully, and she grinned. Yes. That was definitely what she would do. Who knew, she may even find out something useful...

***

Robert Dixon wasn't keeping his usual sharp eye on the coffee maker. It was Jessie, the regular woman, so she'd probably get it right; and his attention was currently on something far more intriguing. He'd been working for Hammersley for over twelve years, and he'd been coming to this coffee store every morning for most of that. As soon as a single detail changed, he was very aware of it.

Mike said he wasn't cut out to be a field agent and, fair enough, Robert preferred organising the information side of things. It was a job someone had to do, and he doubted anyone could do it as well as he did. But that wasn't to say his field skills were at all rusty – they were certainly working overtime today.

"Robert," called Jessie, holding out a mug. "Black with one." Lips quirking towards a smile, he took the proffered mug and tasted the coffee – yes, exactly how he liked it.

Under the pretence of looking for a clear table, he finally got a good look at her. Red-brown hair cut short, brown eyes following him as he wandered slowly down the row of tables towards her. As he drew level, her gaze suddenly flickered away; an attempt at deception so obvious he had to stop himself from smirking.

It was a small shop and, though the morning rush had already left, there were a fair few people. So this wouldn't be too odd.

"Excuse me," he said, turning back to the woman and gesturing at the seat opposite her. "Is anyone else sitting here?"

Clearly startled, she shook her head and made a quick gesture to indicate the empty chair. Robert didn't like table sharing, because it resulted in a distinct lack of privacy. His privacy, however, had already been invaded today, and it was time to work out why.

"Hi," he greeted, as she looked down. The absence of any beverage gave her away; she wasn't in the cafe for morning tea.

"Hi," she replied.

"My name's Robert Dixon," he said, adding something that he hoped resembled a friendly smile.

"Oh. I'm Rebecca." He took a sip of coffee, so she would feel obliged to fill the silence. "Rebecca Brown." Hm. The name was familiar, but he didn't know where from. Someone must have mentioned her in passing.

"Hello, Rebecca. Do you come here often?" Even if his field skills were up to scratch, his dialogue certainly wasn't; it was almost impossible to keep the conversation going, or happening at all.

"Uh, no. I just... came here today. For a coffee."

He looked down at her empty hands. "That's an interesting sort of coffee."

"The line was too long. So I decided I'd wait a moment," she said calmly.

He glanced at the line behind them. It wasn't that long, but neither was it so short that her story was immediately false. He gave her a point for thinking on her feet. However, he was not in the mood to play verbal ping-pong. He had a coffee to drink, a desk to get back to, and a schedule to keep.

"Alright, Rebecca. How about you tell me why you were following me?"

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't lose eye contact as she said, "I wasn't."

Bringing the coffee level to halfway, he made a mental note to write a letter of complaint if the council ever tried to shut this place down. He then turned his attention back to Rebecca. "You sure? From the big office building on High Street, past the doughnut place and the used car dealership..."

"I came that way," she said coolly. "I wasn't following you."

"You came a long way to get a coffee," he pointed out. There were other shops that sold coffee along the route. He came to this one because it had been here the longest and was, in his opinion, the best. "And you've already said you're not a regular, so.. why come here?"

She narrowed her eyes, and he could see that she wasn't thinking through her answers; she was just throwing out whatever came into her head. Not the greatest way of lying. "Someone recommended it to me."

"Who?" he asked, leaning forward. He kept his gaze steady as he casually finished the coffee.

"My boyfriend," she said. He found it interesting that she let herself be interrogated; another sign of guilt. If she really had just come for a coffee, she wouldn't be trying to justify herself to a complete stranger.

And then Robert decided that enough was enough. She was so obviously suss, she couldn't possibly be a Kingston agent. Her agenda, whatever it was, didn't seem dangerous. When he got back to Hammersley, he would check her out, find out why her name had seemed familiar. Standing abruptly, he pushed the empty mug towards her.

"Alright then. Enjoy your coffee. Jessie is extremely good at her job."

With that, he was gone.

***

Her bright idea to watch Hammersley for any sign of activity had gone well for the first hour. Well, it hadn't gone badly... okay, nothing had happened. Then she'd seen a dark-haired man leaving the building, heading down the street with a purposeful stride, and decided to follow him. When Curry offered her a position, and someone tried to teach her about tailing a suspect, she'd surprise them with her already-developed skills.

Obviously that wouldn't be for a while yet. How had he seen her? She didn't remember him ever turning around or pausing to check for a tail. She probably shouldn't have gone into the cafe after him... but she'd thought he might be there to talk to an informant or something else exciting, not to... drink coffee. Fortunately, he had believed her when she denied the claim.

She sighed, and glanced up as the waitress collected the empty mug from her table. That was enough excitement for one day. She'd go home and think up a strategy for her tailing skills. Getting past this Robert's defences would be the first step. He looked like a creature of habit; odds were, he'd be back for coffee tomorrow morning.

And so would she.

***

"Get this," Robert said eagerly, looking through a printout. "Rebecca Brown, only daughter of a third-generation cattle farmer. Wants a bit of action in her life, wants to go out to the big smoke – and so her father puts her under the watchful eye of her cousin... one Darryl Smith."

Only at the last few words did Mike show a sign of interest; lifting an eyebrow. "Darryl has a cousin. I've heard of her. How is this relevant, Robert?"

"She followed me to the cafe this morning. Apparently she's some Kingston agent wannabe." Seeing the boss' interest fading rapidly, Robert added, "I think we should circulate her name and picture, just in case she's working off the books."

Mike grimaced, and shrugged. "I don't think she'll be a problem."

"You never know," Robert insisted. "I'll keep an eye on her. See if she tries it again." Before Mike could protest, he was turning and heading back to his own office. Thanks to Rebecca, he was now very behind schedule. As he left, he had to flatten himself against the doorway so that Kate could pass him.

She gave him a brief nod, then paused at the sight of Mike with his head in his hands. "What's he up to?" she asked.

"You know the one thing that's _worse_ than a senfet?" he groaned. "Senior agents who _think_ they're senfets."


	9. Navigator: 8

**Navigator – 8**

**Wednesday 3****rd**** June, 2009**

"I'm worried about Jade," Mike said, causing Kate to glance sideways. His head was against the pillow, but she could see him holding all the tension in his neck.

"What about Jade?" The question was unexpected, considering they hadn't seen the girl for over three weeks, since they had all met at Nikki's place for dinner.

"Well, maybe worried isn't quite right... but there may be an issue." When Mike paused again, Kate glared, so he continued. "She speaks Spanish. Almost fluent, comprehensive Spanish."

"How did she... Nikki."

"She listens to Nikki on the phone. Agents are supposed to use a foreign language in case anyone is listening..."

"And somehow Jade's learning the languages. Just Spanish?"

He sighed, head lolling to one side so he could look at her. "I don't know. But she's smart, incredibly so... and she doesn't know it, but she's probably overhead a _lot_ that she shouldn't have."

"It's not like Kingston are using her to get the information, though, she's just curious."

"What it means is that Nikki's security measures aren't up to scratch. If Jade heard... who else did?"

Kate shook her head. "There is a slight difference between letting your five year old daughter overhear a conversation in a foreign language, and allowing information to fall into the hands of your competitors. If we had a child, I don't think we'd be worried what it was listening to."

His hands, which had steadily been creeping towards her waist, stilled. "Do you want a kid?"

There was a pause. "Do you think we should?" Kate asked, inching forward so that her breath was tickling his chin.

He smothered a laugh. "That's what Josh asked me the other day."

"Whether the two of you should have kids?" she replied with a grin.

Chuckling outright, he shook his head and leaned towards her. "No, about whether you and I... would. And ever since, I've been wondering what it'd be like."

"I don't know if I could," she said slowly. "I wouldn't have a clue about what to do."

"Well, nine months is long enough to figure it out," he whispered, lips closing around her earlobe. The contact was broken as she propped herself up, looking at him seriously.

"Would we be good parents?" she asked, frowning.

"Do you think there's a chance we'd be bad ones?"

She thought back to her own destructive upbringing, and gave a sad smile. "No, we wouldn't be bad..." Smirking, he gazed back at her, and she swallowed. "You're serious?"

One leg looped around hers, and he nodded. "Yeah. We're not getting any younger."

"Aren't I supposed to be the one with the biological clock?"

"Well, mine's ticking."

She snorted. "And how do you suggest I get pregnant?"

Pulling her closer, he whispered against her lips, "We can always try the old-fashioned way."

Her lips warmly accepted the feel of his, and this time she waited until the kiss ended before speaking. "I'm on the pill."

Mike hesitated for a moment, then rolled over, pinning her beneath him. "Well, no harm in practising."

***

**Thursday 4****th**** June, 2009**

As Jessie handed over the mug, she gave Robert an uncharacteristic scowl. "Your friend's here," she said, gesturing with her free hand.

He took the coffee and turned to see Rebecca seated at what could be called their 'usual' table. More often that not over the past two weeks, he would notice her tailing him from Hammersley HQ to here. It had become a bit of a game and, as much as he usually disliked games, this was certainly entertaining. Not to mention good training.

"You didn't see me this morning," she commented as he sat down. Neither of them felt the need for flowery greetings.

"No, I didn't," he agreed. The corner of his mouth twisted. "You weren't following me."

Put out that he had guessed so quickly, she took a sip of coffee. On their second encounter, he had sat down and she had responded to his raised eyebrow with, _"You're right, they do make good coffee."_ Today she had arrived first and was almost finished her cup. On second thoughts, that was probably what had given her away.

"I figured, why risk being spotted if I know where you're going?" she said, shrugging one shoulder.

He snorted. "Because you _don't_ know. You'll never know where someone is going until they get there. You _assumed_ – big no-no."

Scowling, she crushed the empty paper cup in her hand. "Another no-no is being predictable. And you, Robert, are _very_ predictable."

"It's when someone is predictable that second-guessing them is the worst thing you can do. Far more likely to be wrong." He saw her open her mouth to protest, and added, "Also, if something is going on – which is when and why you'd be tailing a suspect – that's when they're likely to break out of routine."

She frowned. "Fine. No assuming." He took a sip of coffee, watching as her shoulders slumped. "So what else am I supposed to do? If I'm behind, you always see me. This is _hard_."

"Bec, you're not even at the hard part yet," he said. "And yes, I always see you. Every time. Because you are absolutely atrocious at keeping out of sight."

"So tell me what to do," she insisted, a glare within easy reach in case he refused.

Robert looked down at his mug as he considered. He probably shouldn't go giving his top secret tailing tips to someone from the opposition. But, as always, Jessie had excelled herself, and good coffee put him in a good mood.

"Okay," he relented. "First: as soon as anyone sees you, they know you don't belong. If you blend in, then being spotted isn't such a big deal, because you're dismissed as just another person on the street." Glancing pointedly at her faded jeans, bobbed red hair and leather jacket, he elaborated. "You look like a cross between a country kid and a bikie chick. This is an office district – all shirts and suits."

"I don't have much else," she said defensively, resisting the urge to point out that his description of her was quite accurate.

"Agency would supply you with appropriate clothing for an assignment," he said with a shrug. However nonchalantly he had spoken, she didn't fail to notice the inclusion of both 'A' words. Usually they kept these conversations as entirely theoretical, as something academic. He continued drinking as she thought, her determination to improve bolstered by the idea of an actual assignment.

"But that doesn't help me _now_," she replied after a little while. "What if you are, for whatever reason, unable to blend in?"

"Make sure you're not seen," he suggested simply.

Growling under her breath, she put a hand between him and the mug as it rose towards his lips. "How?"

"That's your problem." Manoeuvring the coffee around her hand, he finished it and stood up. "Bye, Bec."

The cafe was empty enough that she could watch his path to the door. However, it took several moments before she realised she wasn't the only one watching him leave. She turned her attention to the woman behind the serving counter, who had lifted a hand in a casual goodbye-wave – but Robert was already facing away from her and didn't see the gesture.

Rebecca's thoughts immediately turned back to her own problem. _How to avoid being seen?_ He never turned around, or stopped, or even glanced sideways... so how did he know she was there? So what if she stuck out like a sore thumb? She wasn't noticeable _until_ he saw her... and he was right; if she wasn't seen then it wouldn't matter.

She wished she could ask someone else, someone who was a little more... _helpful_... than Robert. Her thoughts turned to Buff. He was primarily Navy, and didn't know the conventional agent skills such as tailing or stealing top-secret information. She hadn't told him about her mornings with Robert, and the talent she was perfecting. Pausing for a moment, she wondered what would Buff think if he saw her sitting with a young man, drinking coffee and chatting?

She snorted quietly. Buff knew she loved him, knew she wasn't stupid enough to risk everything by having an affair while he was at sea. Didn't he?

Sighing, she tried counting the days since she'd last seen him. Even when he had leave, he still spent it with the crew. Well, that wasn't exactly anything new... but seeing as he had Spider hanging over his shoulder the whole time, she didn't want to join them. And he didn't really seem to be doing much to convince her to come; it was like he didn't want her there.

The time they spent together was as good as ever, there just wasn't... as much of it. Glaring at the table, she wondered what had caused the shift in their relationship over the past few weeks – and how she was going to fix it.

***

It had been a good day, Josh thought. While Jade had been at school, he had finally fixed a broken fan that had been left in his workshop. The electric wires were hideously old, and had taken a long time to remove and replace. Jade had gone to a friend's place after school, giving Josh time to clean up a little. It never failed to surprise him how assorted junk could migrate around the house, turning a perfectly liveable home into an atrocious mess the day before Nikki came home.

An exhausted Jade had gone to bed over an hour ago, and Josh was close to doing the same thing. Looking at his face in the bathroom mirror, he sighed. As much as he wanted to support Nikki's career, he missed her. Sleeping alone was the worst part. He was so used to her presence at his side, her arms around his waist or her head on his shoulder, that going to bed alone reminded him...

Reminded him of last year. Of Jade crawling into his arms at midnight, both of them crying and unable to sleep. The fear, as he watched Nikki's chest rise and fall with the ventilator. Stark white hospital lights illuminating each day. The sobs that caught in her throat every time she looked at him, and the ones that broke free and threatened to engulf them both. Three weeks in which Jade wouldn't leave his side, and didn't speak a single word.

Months where he would wince at the sight of the red scabs on her chest, and flinch at the guilt on her face as he helped her change the dressing. Moments when he would wonder what to do next.

Jade wouldn't speak of those months, or say what she had felt. They had sometimes wondered whether they should talk to her about it; see what she remembered, erase any guilt that lay festering in her subconscious. But as she returned to her bubbly, life-loving self, they couldn't do it.

Josh knew he had to stop thinking before his mind turned to Connor. Too late. Jade had worshipped the little boy, had found her best friend in him, despite the age difference. And she had seen him die –

A scream ripped through the silent house, and Josh's head snapped sideways. A moment later, he was pushing himself away from the sink and moving towards Jade's room. It was as if her sleeping brain had heard his thoughts, and as he flicked on the lightswitch her enormous eyes bored sightlessly into his chest. He took a step forward, and she blinked.

Trembling, she opened her mouth and whispered, "Where's mummy?" Sitting on the bed beside her, he tried to pull her closer, but she threw off the heavy winter blanket and inched away from him. "Mummy!"

"She's not here," he said sadly. The nightmares were much less frequent this year, and this was the first one she had had without Nikki in the house.

The trembling increased and Jade shook her head. "I want mummy here, where's mummy?" Her low tone was increasing to a wail, and Josh slowly reached out a hand to cradle her cheek. He felt the wet touch of a tear against his finger then, with another mewling cry, Jade threw herself at him.

"Mummy's on the boat," he sighed into her hair. "She'll be back tomorrow."

"Boat?" Jade sniffed, looking up, her hair just touching his chin.

Keeping his arms around her, he nodded. "Remember? Mum works on the big Navy boat now."

"How come her boat doesn't come home? How does mummy sleep?"

Glad that his daughter seemed to be calming down, Josh touched his nose against hers, and she giggled. "There are beds on the boat," he told her. For a few seconds, she gazed at him levelly, in what he had silently termed "the Nikki impersonation". She couldn't hold the expression, however, and was soon giggling again.

"Boats don't have beds," she said, as if he should already know that. "Boats have big white sails and cannons, and the sailors sleep in hammocks." Josh found himself laughing, to which Jade grinned and kept talking. "And they fight pirates! Then go down to the pirate boat and look for treasure! Does mummy fight pirates?"

"I think she does, sweetie," Josh agreed. So the Navy and Jade probably had a different definition of "pirate", but he wasn't going to try and explain that. Her shocked expression was too perfect.

"But pirates are dangerous," she suddenly whispered, deflating like an untied balloon. Josh tried not to tense. Any mention of her mother getting hurt caused this reaction, and if he was going to get Jade – and himself – back to bed any time tonight, he'd have to think of something.

"Well, your mum doesn't actually fight them," he amended. "She has lots of strong sailors who do that. And they're much stronger than the pirates."

"Oh," Jade said, thinking. "So why do they need mummy?"

"She's the Navigator," Josh replied, relieved to have overcome the problem so quickly.

"Navigator," Jade repeated. "What's that?"

"You've seen me in the car with the map?" Jade nodded eagerly. Josh and the map was a dispute she had seen many times before. "Well, she has a big map of the ocean. She's the one who tells the boat where to go."

Jade frowned, seemingly having trouble with the concept. After a moment she asked, "So how come mummy can't use the car map?"

Josh repressed a chuckle. "Car maps are harder, because... there are houses in the way."

With a sage nod, Jade accepted the answer. "And there aren't many houses in the ocean."

Her hands were still clutching at his shirt, and Josh closed his eyes. Why did moments of such closeness always occur after something bad? The feel of Jade's soft hair, so like her mother's, under his fingers had him wishing Nikki was here. She had been gone for more than two weeks, the longest patrol she had done so far.

"Hey," he whispered, and Jade looked up curiously. "You haven't seen mum's boat yet, have you?"

Jade shook her head. "I'm at school when she comes home."

Remembering how insistent he had been that Jade not start skipping school, Josh took a few minutes to consider. "Well... how about you come with me tomorrow when I pick her up. You can see her boat."

"What about school?" she asked, and he grimaced.

"You're not behind. Won't hurt to miss the afternoon classes." Jade's wide grin convinced Josh he wasn't making a mistake. "Now, you need to get some more sleep. Have to pay extra attention at school in the morning," he instructed, gently encouraging her to crawl out of his lap and back to the middle of her bed. Pulling the blanket back over her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

Tomorrow would be an even better day.

***

**Friday 5****th**** June, 2009**

"I do wonder sometimes how you're still married."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "Happily married, too."

"Of course, I still wonder how you got married in the first place..."

Giving her most withering look, she added, "Don't start, Darryl, you sound like Richard."

He glared back at her. "Any particular reason you're hanging out in a seaside cafe at six in the morning?"

She didn't reply immediately, instead offering a casual nod to the waitress as a cappuccino appeared on the table in front of her. "Some people like an early morning start," she eventually said vaguely. "I'm more interested in what you're doing here."

"I'm a regular. Smell the sea air, drink something far better than that inner-city crap..."

Kate's lips twitched slightly, her expression relaxed, and the tension eased. She was here doing surveillance, but there was no way she was going to tell Darryl that. However, having seen him drinking coffee at an outside table of the Ocean View cafe, she hadn't been able to resist dropping into the seat beside him, eyebrow raised. From his expression, it was clear he was here to meet someone else; and she would be very interested to find out who.

"Seeing as you're here and I'm here, I have a favour to ask," she said carefully. Professionally, neither held the upper hand, but Darryl was not someone to cross.

"Depends what for. Personal business, or professional?"

Sipping her drink, Kate let her eyes roam over the collection of early morning cyclists and joggers. In the harbour, small fishing boats were preparing for a day out and, not-too-distant, she could see the top of a naval ship.

"I wouldn't ask you if it was personal," she said eventually.

Darryl snorted. "Why would you be asking me if it was professional? Unless it's something you don't want your boss – or your husband – to know."

With a lazy smile, she shrugged. "Nothing I'm trying to hide. But Mike doesn't trust you, for some reason."

"I'm hurt." His tone gave the impression he was anything but.

"If I gave you a list of names, would you be able to tell me if any of them were Kingston agents? Possibly LF?"

He frowned. "I could for an agent... but if it's an outside-recruited LF agent, I'd need access to their files. Which I don't have. And keep in mind, that's _could_, not would."

"How about your cousin?" Kate said, lifting one eyebrow as she lowered her mug to the table. "I've heard she's got dreams of being an agent. Has the 'in' with Kingston?"

"I wouldn't know. She doesn't talk to me much." After a moment, he volunteered some more details. "She would make a good agent. Has the brains and the determination. But Richard won't employ her if I don't give him the go-ahead... which won't happen until I'm sure she's learnt some common sense."

Smirking, Kate nodded. "It hasn't happened yet. She cropped up on our radar."

Darryl shook his head. "I don't want to know. She's under the impression that I'm responsible for her. She's an adult, and if she does something stupid then she's the only one paying the consequences."

"I thought it was your uncle who pulled the strings?" Kate pressed, curious. Robert had reported Rebecca's continued presence and, though he had confirmed she was no threat, Kate was interested to know more.

"He agrees with me. She has to take responsibility for herself. If you see her go over any lines, by the way, feel free to treat her as any other person. My somewhat-estranged cousin cannot think herself immune to the law because she knows those who work above it."

Kate gave a small shrug and a nod as she lowered the level of her cappuccino, then brought the conversation back to its starting point. "So, my information?"

Darryl sighed. "Talk to me later about it. Depends what you want it for."

_That'll do_, Kate reasoned. In a brief chat, she had achieved far more then Mike could have in hours of negotiating. Darryl sometimes volunteered extremely useful information – at other times, refused to offer a single scrap. When it came to helping Hammersley out, he was completely unreliable, but his occasional pipelines were always worth it.

"Are you leaving now?" he asked, breaking into her thoughts. She raised an eyebrow, and he gestured at her empty mug. "Go back to your walk."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Failing, too," he muttered, lips twisting in frustration.

"Who are you meeting?" At his glare, she added, "We're not the sort of people to have such an innocent agenda as an early breakfast."

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it with a grimace. And Kate realised that whoever he was meeting wasn't averse to approaching while she was sitting there.

"Agent _Flynn_. Maybe you should have breakfast more often, you look thinner."

She saw Darryl repressing a smirk at the expression on her face, and immediately wiped it. "Richard."

"But still beautiful." Dragging a chair over from the nearest table, Richard Curry sat down, his gaze flicking between the two senior agents. "I didn't think many people from Hammersley would come down this area," he said, momentarily raising an eyebrow at Darryl.

"First time for everything," Darryl replied.

"Now, Kate, how are you? I haven't seen you in... hmm..."

"Over a year," she said bluntly. "I'm sure you haven't forgotten our last discussion."

He yawned, and lifted his feet to rest on the table. "No, I haven't. I'm sure you remember my parting words. They are the clincher, you know. And... how is old Mike?"

"No older than you," Kate said, snorting softly. "And he is also well. We are keeping ourselves busy. No doubt you have something you're working on that will keep you out of trouble."

"Whereas you go looking for trouble," Richard pointed out. Darryl sat less than a metre away, completely forgotten. "It will cost you, one of these days."

"Is that a threat?"

"Threaten an agent as skilled as you? I'm not suicidal, Kate. Just a friendly warning. I work in the intelligence business... I know what you get up to behind Mike's back. Does he know where you are now?"

"I'd put my money on no," Darryl broke in, seeing the tension rising between the two. "Seeing as you found out about my business down here, Kate, would it be too much to ask about yours?"

She stood abruptly, intently ignoring Richard to one side. "It is," she said to Darryl. Without another glance at either of them, she strode off.

***

It was just going on eight when Mike entered his office that morning. Raising an eyebrow, he tried to hide the relief he felt at seeing Kate waiting for him. By now he was used to her occasionally-wayward attitude, and could do little more than hold his breath until she returned home safely. Or, in this case, returned to the office.

"Find anything interesting on your morning walk?" he asked casually. Of course she had, or she wouldn't be waiting for him. She was sitting in his chair, facing him, and he saw several emotions flicker quickly across her face; the sort of emotions she wouldn't speak and wouldn't let anyone else see. In response, he shut the door behind him, then moved forward and knelt beside her. "Kate?"

"Was just looking around, nothing dangerous," she said slowly. "But I ran into someone."

She didn't look scared – more disturbed. Mike carefully lifted a hand to her cheek, and she rested against the contact for several seconds. "Who?" he asked.

"Darryl," she frowned. "But more interesting is who he was meeting." This time, she didn't make him wait. "Richard Curry."

Now Mike frowned. Kate's voice was flat, empty, and almost... scared? He'd never known Kate to be scared of another person before. "What were they talking about?"

"I don't know," she said. "They weren't going to talk in front of me." She took in a deep breath, then straightened, and any trace of emotion was gone. "But it means you were right. Darryl is giving Kingston information, just like he's giving it to us."

Standing up, Mike nodded slowly. "But how much, and _why_? If he wants to take a side, why help both? What can he possibly gain from putting us on even footing?"

"Entertainment?" Kate suggested. "I don't know. But he's definitely got an agenda, and I'm going to find out what it is."


End file.
